Les Nuits Masquées

The New Girl at School

2010-12-17T10:15:00.004+10:00

"Look what she's eating!"
They spoke in English but she could understand a little.

The two girls eyed her from afar, inspecting the contents of her half-opened lunch box. Her lunch, it seemed, had aroused their curiosity. But she knew this packed lunch was only an extension of who she was. They'd examined her lunch because it was the only way they could safely observe or judge her, the stranger. Or at least that's what it felt like.

Her ears burnt from shame. She glanced down at the box on her lap with dismay. Was it really so odd? So different?

A packet of Pac Man chips
A mini Snickers
Two ham and beetroot sandwhiches
A muesli bar
An orange juice poppa.

It seemed like a normal lunch. She began to chew self-consciously, tucking her folded legs under her blue school uniform and looking away to avoid the uninvited stares. It was odd how something as universal as eating fell under scrutiny when one was a stranger. A stranger.

Later, after much contemplation, she started to believe that maybe there had been a little too much food in there. After all, those other girls she'd met in class always used to complain about their fat thighs, their fat calves. They'd eat half as much as her and were much thinner. By the end of the year she would have drastically reduced the food she ate for lunch. By then, she would only pack two crackers with cheese and a muesli bar. But for now, she went home and just told her mum in French,
"Mum, can you please only make me one sandwhich tomorrow. Also I don't want a muesli bar."
Her mum was confused.

It was 1986. She'd just immigrated to Australia about a month ago and Grade 6 was a confusing world where one could see but not understand. English words became obsessions and every day was a new word. They'd change her name too. Because on the first day, the teacher had quickly told her that her real name was a boy's name.

"I had been expecting a boy," he reproached. "We'd best change your name so that the other school kids don't get confused."
Her auntie translated it all. At first it sounded like fun.
"What would you like to be called?"
"How about Laure? It's close enough to Laurence."
"It's too difficult to pronounce in English," protested the carrot-haired school teacher.
"What about Laura?" suggested her aunt.

Laura it was. In a matter of minutes, an identity can be changed. It's so easy. You just have to adapt.

They called her Laura. She'd just turned 11. She was anxious and ashamed in those first 6 months. And she had a secret back then.
Because she long ached to try those cream buns with their pink coconut icing, the ones they sold every day at the tuckshop. But she'd held back, terrified about what would happen. She'd remembered how those girls had stared at her in the playground when she ate and the way it made her feel.

And then one day, it started. When no one was looking, she would hide. She would buy a coconut iced bun at recess and creep inside the toilets. There she'd find an empty cubicle, lock the door and enjoy the bun, away from sight. It would happen many times.

It was odd how something as universal as eating could become a source of shame when one was a stranger. A stranger.

Goodbye to Les Nuits Masquées

2010-12-13T14:49:00.003+10:00

Thank you to my many readers.

Now you can find out who the person behind Les Nuits Masquées really is.

I have another blog now. Teranga and Sun. All welcome.

The Ming Storytellers

2010-12-06T22:46:00.002+10:00

The Ming Storytellers is a novel set in 15th century Ming China. It took me four years to research and write, while working and/or studying and I am still in the throes of the manuscript editing process.

My sources and inspirations have included historical journals, medical forums, an endless list of history books, Ming literature, books on Chinese clothing, Chinese maps, astronomical articles, medical articles, a visit to China, Chinese epic films like Feng Xiaogang's "The Banquet" (set in a different period) and my imagination.

I am not modest about this novel. From the point of view of someone raised in a predominantly Western environment with no knowledge of the Chinese language, writing about China, let alone an obscure China of the 15th century, is no mean feat.

Yet, this novel is bound to encounter criticism from historians, Chinese nationalists or even from those who believe they know best and who have never written anything themselves.

That is ok. Every human endeavor invites one of, or a mixture of three possible responses. There will always be criticism, admiration and indifference. This is inevitable. The only hope one always has is that those who criticise will be constructive and knowledgeable.

Still, I value the uniqueness and pioneering nature of The Ming Storytellers. As described by Thomas Carter in his Amazon List of China Historical Fiction, The Ming Storytellers stands as one of the very few historical novels written in English and set in China.

Thomas Carter who is the author of CHINA: Portrait of a People, indicates that,

"Whether this is due to China’s notorious cultural and geographical inaccessibility or simply a lack of wherewithal by western authors to tackle such an immense subject, the fact remains that for all its wealth of material, China is one of the least written-about countries in historical fiction.

(Of author James Michener’s vast catalog of historical fiction, not one of his 40+ titles takes place in China; apparently the 9.5 million sq. km., 5,000 year-old China was a bit much for the late Michener to take on.)"

- Thomas Carter

I would like to intercede on James Michener's behalf. In his book, Hawaii, Michener does indeed touch on Chinese culture, notably the Hakka ethnic group. He sets part of the novel in China, albeit, mainly to recount the story of Chinese characters migrating to Hawaii.

I feel also that Thomas Carter's list omits Jung Chang's exceptional Wild Swans and perhaps a few others. Having said that, none of the books that I can recount deal with the Ming Dynasty. Their focus is mainly on the Qing Dynasty onwards. Meanwhile, Gavin Menzies' 1421 is the only book set in the Ming Dynasty and even so, his bestseller is not historical fiction but rather history, or some might say, speculative history.

In February 2010, I made a bold and perhaps presumptuous move. I released my novel's website to the public.

My plan this year is to continue with the editing/feedback process. As a first time author, I know better than to approach any publisher or literary agent unless I am confident about the quality manuscript. There is still much to be done.

10 Reasons Why Gay Marriage Should be Allowed

2010-08-18T16:07:00.006+10:00

In a time when the Australian political debate has converged on this issue of gay marriage, we should examine the reasons that people have raised in their protest against gay marriage.

The methodology behind this article is based on social psychology (and therefore science) rather than law or religion. It argues for 10 reasons why gay marriage should be allowed in Australia.

1. To say that gay marriage is wrong because marriage laws dictate it, is flawed reasoning.

Since 2004, Australian law states that "marriage means the union of a man and a woman to the exclusion of all others, voluntarily entered into for life".

This law needs to be changed. The majority of people who voted in a recent Sydney Morning Herald article think so. Do we or do we not have a democracy?

Laws are supposed to be helpful.
In this case,

a. The current law may not be right for all. Using it to defend the anti-gay marriage cause is a circular device. It's like when someone asks "Why is that" and you reply "Because I said so"

b. Laws are meant to exist for the benefit of mankind. A law against murder and theft for example are pro-life and pro-respect and ensure that people are protected from harm. But a law against gay couple marriage is not pro anything. Who benefits from it? Who does it help? No one. In fact it hinders people who genuinely love each other from advancing as easily as other couples on the sole basis of their gender constitution. The current law is depriving some couples who feel love for each other on the basis that 'it is the law' but for no other valid reason. It therefore needs to be changed for the good of humanity.

Some countries, including Spain, Canada and The Netherlands have already done that. This map from French newspaper, Le Figaro, shows the current gay marriage, gay civil union and adoption laws in the world.

2. To say that marriage laws dictate that the party be male and female is archaic

Let's face it, Australian laws today are based on the old Judeo-Christian laws. To repeat this archaic nonsense is the equivalent of repeating that "a woman should be stoned for adultery."
Some laws should be changed.

3. What is defined as normal is a cultural mindset

Culture is changing. What is right or wrong has changed over the years. Nothing is by definition "normal".

About 110 years ago, Oscar Wilde was sentenced to hard labour for 2 years. He was made to labour on the treadmill until he was wasted. Why? He was charged with gross indecency because he was gay.

Today in countries where homosexuality is legal, including Australia, we would cringe at the thought of Oscar Wilde's treatment. How could they do this to him?
Yes, only about 110 years ago, the English judicial system did this to Oscar Wilde because the culture and times were conducive to this mentality. Because it was normal.

Today the English judicial system would behave very differently. This is proof that in matters of sexuality, our mentality evolves.

Culture and social beliefs are evolving today and to say that something is not normal is not a valid argument for denying gay couple the right to marry because 'normalcy' relies on a temporary belief system.

4. There is no scientific basis to define marriage in one way or another now that science has the tools to aid in procreation

Marriage in terms of the Judeo-Christian definition allowed a man and woman to procreate and make children.

In those days, marriage necessitated a male party and a female party - to assist in procreation.
But today the fact that a male and female party are no longer a necessity for a couple to arrive at children is the very thing that puts into question the definition of marriage.

Medical and scientific advances together with the large departure from traditional religious fervour in Western marriages means that couples can resort to any of sperm donations, in-vitro fertilization and adoption to have children. Heterosexual couples use these advances and do not believe it is wrong.

What this means is that the definition of marriage should no longer be limited by traditional procreation considerations.

5. The belief that you need a man and a woman to raise children otherwise the children are lacking in some ways, is a myth

Latest 2010 research indicates that children adopted by gay or lesbian parents develop as well as those adopted by heterosexual couples.

6. It is also a myth that you need a man and a woman to raise children and that 'a woman and a man bring different things to a child'

This is a social fallacy. Basically, it asserts that a man will say, teach his son how to paint a house and a woman will teach her daughter how to bake a cake.
This is a crass example but these stereotypes are real.

In a nutshell, this gender role belief asserts that in a couple, the male is required to fulfill his male gendered role expectations and the female is required to fulfill her female gendered role expectations and that both are necessary for their child to thrive.

But in the first place, gender roles are nothing but cognitive shackles that have been imposed on individuals as a result of social expectations and beliefs. A heterosexual man often behaves a certain way because over many years, social norms, social expectations, and his desire for male integrity have taught him to behave this way. Similarly a female is highly influenced by social norms herself. If we are to grow as human beings, and raise similarly free human beings, we must rid ourselves of shackles that limit us. Regardless of our sexual orientation.

Our society is in fact slowly evolving in this way and this is why gender roles no longer have a place.

Luckily for gay couples, who already have faced an internal struggle with who they are or should be according to society and who already feel comfortable with being their true selves regardless of expectations, the ability to behave in a traditionally male or traditionally female way is just a matter of choice rather than convention.

If anything, gay couples have a supreme advantage of not being limited by social convention and of moving with fluidity between roles. They therefore can arguably be best equipped to raise a child. Wouldn't you think?

But even so, biological gender limitations may still exist, you say. After all, not everything is determined by environment. Some individual attributes are the product of nature.
Indeed, while there is scientific evidence that in general, women are better at multitasking and that in general, men are better at finding their way around a maze, these biological gender variations are hardly significant factors in terms of child rearing.
So in the worse case scenario, little Mary is going to be raised by two women who get lost regularly. So what?

7. Gay Parents are not a form of abuse to a child

The most laughable argument against gay marriage/child adoption is that it is a form of abuse to children involved. There is no scientific evidence in favour of this.

Studies by developmental psychologists have demonstrated that for a child to thrive emotionally, physically and be attached securely to their parents, they need emotionally responsive and attuned carers. In no way does gender come into the picture.

One can't begin to rave enough about the real child abuse perpetrated all over the world by heterosexual couples. Let's not go there.

Anyone who believes that children of heterosexual couples are the happiest creatures on earth is obviously out of touch with reality.

8. The statement that Gay people are a Minority and should fit into our Majority Laws is against Human Rights

Let's say that again. It is against human rights.

It's like saying Black people are not allowed in the Club.

Let's define these terms.

Black is a color that can not be changed in the same way as sexual orientation is a human facet that can not be rigidly controlled or made to change to suit the 'majority'.

The Club allows a group of people to be recognised as 'belonging to the club', it gives them access to various Club rights. It allows those who are in the Club to be seen by all others in the Club as being permitted to join the Club. The Club, in its most abstract form is in fact the very definition of marriage.

We would not turn away a non-White person from any venue today, would we? It would be against human rights. In the same way, refusing gay couples from the right to marriage infringes on human rights.

9. Accusing Gay Couples of Dishonesty is not an argument

There are some who think that any two people of the same gender can band up and reap up the family / couple benefits acquired by law by pretending to be enamored of each other.

It's a fear. The fear that supposedly dishonest gay couples will take advantage of welfare or will benefit from government benefits intended for genuine couples.
This fear is not a valid argument against Gay Marriage.

The ability to take advantage of the system is alive and well in heterosexual couples.

Some heterosexual couples who are happily living together for years suddenly decide to get married because it helps them in one way or another.

Some heterosexual couples happily produce children in order to reap child allowance benefits which never even go to the child. (If that's not child abuse, I don't know what is.)

Most heterosexual couples are happy to use 'the system' and understand how the government can help them, their family, their children whether financially or in any other way. It is human nature to want as much as possible for one's family.

Of course we want to use the system. Did any Australian heterosexual couple ever spit on the Baby Bonus granted to Australian mothers? Hell no. Take it. Take it all. Pop those babies while you can still reap the rewards. Some women even began scheduling their child's birth to take advantage of the rise in the baby bonus. Yes, we know who you are.

Sad really. But gay couples can hardly be accused of anything that a heterosexual couple wouldn't do. Therefore this argument is not valid.

10. Saying "Who Cares" and "What's the Big Deal" is not a valid argument against gay marriage.

So yes it might not be a big deal. Perhaps gay couples could just live as happily without getting married. And perhaps if they don't want children, and some couples don't, all this is really not a big deal.

But "It's not a big deal" is an easy statement to make when you are not discriminated against.

There is a principle used in marketing which has strong psychological support. It is a principle whereby, whenever items are banned / restricted or limited they suddenly become very attractive. As a result, many people desire these forbidden items. It's not childish, it is a human behaviour that has its roots in the scarcity of resources.

Of course heterosexuals don't think it is a big deal. Marriage is there, it's available to them. They can get married easily without restrictions. So of course, it's not a big deal to them.
But if it were a restriction, if it were forbidden, who knows how badly they might want it.

I Want a Chauffeur

2010-08-15T12:12:00.000+10:00

I hate driving. I'm good at it, especially on the freeway. But I am hopeless at navigation and sustained concentration on the ugly road. My attention span for traffic contraptions and road signs is limited. Also having a poor eyesight that is never fully correctable does not help at night.

Something that might interest you...I have at least four writer friends who do not drive and I strongly suspect there is something about the writer's mind, perhaps their drifting imagination or their lack of interest in the mundane that makes a writer susceptible to a wholesome loathing for driving. I also think writers like to dream, observe, obsess...and well, obsession over a billboard while driving is not conducive to safety.

Back in the years when I owned a car, I limited my interaction with my Nissan Pulsar and only used it to:
* visit my parents by driving through a well known path which my subconscious knew well or
* commute to work on particularly hot days

In fact, since more often than not, it was my ex-husband who kindly drove me around, we often joked that he was my chauffeur!

My ideal date is to be chauffeured around by my male escort and not have to worry about wearing 10 inch Ruthie Davis stilettos because the venue is only 50 meters away from the car. Bliss!
I actually have a history of being chauffeured to school in Senegal whenever my dad was away on his business trips to Las Palmas and couldn't drive us.

Transport is the bane of my existence. I would opt for teleporting over catching the train, bus, ferry and also driving myself around, any time!

Failing teleporting, a chauffeur will do.

My Novel - A Self-Critique

2010-07-01T11:02:00.006+10:00

With The Ming Storytellers, I was not merely writing to thrill. I wanted to create an entertaining work of fiction that merged interesting characters, narrative, history with ideologies that were important to me. Visually I also wanted to evoke strong images that could do well on screen. Because I love film.

If after having read the book, a reader can, either consciously or subconsciously, perceive parallels between the events unravelling in this novel and society today, then I will have been successful.

If a reader can, either consciously or subconsciously understand the fallacy of Eurocentrism and gain a fresh perspective on the world, then I will have been successful.

The setting is China and the world during the 15th century. It is a remote and, to date, unfamiliar setting especially for non-mainland Chinese including myself. This remote and therefore, one may argue, arbitrary setting is perfect because it may be used to teach, it may be used to introduce a new paradigm about the world and society. However unlike the fictitious worlds of sci-fi or fantasy, it is still a world that is closer to home, a world that has set in motion certain patterns today and from which many parallels may be drawn with our world today.

The world in that period, when China, the Middle Kingdom, was a dominant power comes with its norms and its ideologies just as the English speaking world today has its own dominant Western centric ideologies.

The setting is also perfect because it encourages readers to see outside and understand that what we call normal is a myth.

One particular strategy I have used is to depict the society of the Nakhi people. While I have done this superficially and in no way do I call myself an anthropologist, the depiction of the Nakhi does put into question the generally accepted view of women in the Asian world. In the Nakhi kingdom, women were not submissive. Even the vocabulary used by the Nakhi attribute strength to feminine words and weakness to masculine words.

To conclude, all my characters have beliefs that are relevant to their times. In no way do these beliefs directly reflect my own although to some degree, a few of my characters' ideologies are informed by my values.

The themes explored in the novel include:

racism / xenophobia
gender roles
the nature of sexuality
power
existentialism
ambition / success
imperialism
dreams

I will flesh these out when I have time and explain the main ideas presented. I will also explain how these ideas challenge the dominant ideologies today.

It is no secret that for me the greatest joy would be that this novel becomes part of some education curriculum. All my life, given my multi-cultural background, the experiences I have had living in different countries and reconciling my multiple cultural identities while learning more about other cultures, then studying social psychology and understanding the influence of prejudice/perceptions/attitudes in human thinking, all these things have taught me that NOTHING that we take for granted as NORMAL is normal.
And when we cease to think in black and white, our tolerance and acceptance for others follows.

The Ming Storytellers is a historical novel set in the Ming Dynasty, at a time when China was in its Golden Age. It is a rich account of life in the Forbidden City and beyond drawing on four years of research on Chinese concubines, eunuchs, the Ming government, international relations and world travel in the 15th century. The novel draws on psychology and speculative history but belongs to the newly coined Ming Gothic genre.

Chocolate High Tea at Stamford Plaza

2010-05-26T21:32:00.012+10:00

I had Chocolate High Tea during my romantic weekend at the Stamford last week.

As Shane and I entered the buffet room, I almost swooned from the buttery-sweet aroma and the sinful displays around us. I noticed that generous wells of chocolate fondue were aptly arranged close to the entrance, a ploy that would no doubt discourage any self-respecting female clientele from changing their minds after arriving!

But no High Tea is complete without the ubiquitous crustless sandwiches. Luckily, a long buffet table was devoted to rows and rows of savoury delights, complete with side relish and mustard. My favorite filling was the roast chicken and aioli but there were also egg and mayonnaise sandwiches together with salmon quiches.

We sat outside, below a grand white marquee decked out with elegant hanging chandeliers. Our table was adjacent the lovely river walk overlooking the Storey Bridge.

Shane ordered a coffee while I marvelled over the extensive tea menu and opted for a spicy cinnamon and ginger chai.

After this sensible beginning, and all Victorian principles having soon left us, we succumbed with abandon to every temptation possible in a manner that would have made Oscar Wilde proud.

The buffet centerpiece became a blur of colours while I agonised over every major decision. Was I to grab yet another slice of Stamford White Chocolate Mud cake, or yet more melting Vanilla squares...

My head swirled as I eyed the Florentines, the pretty cupcakes on their triple-tiered stands, the Melting Moments, the apple and cinnamon cake, orange liqueur cream puffs, Chocolate Macademia Brownies, Mango Cheesecakes...

And then there was the Cranberry Cheesecake, Spiced Carrot Cake, Chocolate Fondue with its Strawberries & Marshmallow skewers, the mini Panna Cotta cocktails and what not...

I lost myself and all dignity.

About an hour later, feeling elated, stuffed and looking rather disorderly in my mini blue cocktail dress, I declared that I was once again "drunk on cake" and that I would not eat another bite.
Well except for that slice of White chocolate mud cake that I had clandestinely wrapped in a paper napkin and was jealously guarding for err...later.

Stamford's White Chocolate Mud Cake 'takes the cake'!!

Australian Culture and Psyche - Remembering White Slavery and Convict History

2010-05-12T12:10:00.023+10:00

I read Marcus Clarke's excellent For the Term of His Natural Life recently. I thoroughly enjoyed it and recommend it to anyone, wishing to learn more about Australia's convict history.

This novel was grim and painted a brutal picture of convict treatment. It also made reference to genuine 19th century events where escaped convicts, including a certain Alexander Pearce, resorted to cannibalism among themselves to survive in the bush. If you are interested, The Last Confession of Alexander Pearce is a recent docudrama which aired on the ABC in January 2009 and explores this disturbing story. But returning to Clarke's novel and noting that it was published in the early 1870s, I found it to be a refreshing and honest revelation of events that are normally avoided by the modern Australian psyche.

Marcus Clarke
Marcus Clarke was an Australian journalist with a brilliant literary record delving in topics from psychology to history. I admire his writing because it is critical of the established ideologies of the time but remains poetic and sentimental enough to appeal to some readers' need for drama. For the Term of His Natural Life also includes thematic references to the Count of Monte Cristo which added a romantic slant to the story.

Forgotten Injustice

After having read the novel, I lamented at what seems a lack of connectedness between Australians and their convict past. There is a lingering injustice which has not been addressed but instead swept under the carpet. I feel that some Australians address and, in some cases, even mull over the injustices done to Aborigines but remain blissfully unaware of one other injustice which has shaped the Australian spirit even though its influence is scarcely acknowledged.

Convicts in a Prison Ship
What injustice do I speak of? Well, it is my view that the foundations of main Australian cities, at least those of Sydney, Hobart and Brisbane have been constructed from years of exploitation. When I look around Brisbane, I now see it differently. Ironic that my new sense of awe has arisen from something so ugly as White slavery disguised as moral punishment. But this awe comes to me, I believe, because I feel respectful of those men, women and yes, even children as young as 10, who did not have a choice and who were unscrupulously exploited by a system which called itself righteous and lawful.

Australian culture is not necessarily only derived from the darkness of convict existence since after all, culture is more complex than that. In addition, most members of the Australian population have no convict past whatsoever since there were also many migrants from Europe and Asia who since the 19th century have influenced who Australians are today. But by the same token, and this may upset some people, I feel that we need to look beyond sport to discover the Australian identity.

Australian Culture - What a Crock of Shit

It is my view that Convict history has had an impact on Australian culture even if most Australians are unaware of it.

This is one of the ideas advocated by the amazing Convict Creations, a website that I discovered recently and which among other subjects, explores Australia's culture and compares it to that of other countries.

The author, who wishes to remain anonymous, but who I will call Convict Wally, uses a methodology based on social psychology which I can not praise enough. Wally's approach for explaining and exposing historical events, characters and Australian culture is fascinating. He also describes the plight of convict women and the harsh treatment of convicts (men, women and children). He also examines the unfair reasons a convict was likely to have been imprisoned for.

But as Convict Wally correctly remarks, we do prefer to seek and read about ideas which agree with our own. And so I admit that my interest in this site only reflects my already preconceived notions. Incidentally, (and grossly off-topic) some of these include:

Australian sport is overrated
Australian society remains patriarchal even when it does not know it. Whereas in 19th century Australia, women had little choice but to assume the role of ‘whore’ or embrace matrimony, today the whore/mother dichotomy has acquired a subconscious flavour. Effectively, discourses in the media and advertising consistently reward and encourage motherhood which is seen to epitomise selflessness, normalcy and all manner of kindliness. In the meantime, all other forms of female pursuits are given scant notice (unless of course the subject also happens to be a mother ‘juggling it all’.)

So these are a couple of my views anyway.

One of the arguments that Convict Wally raises is that Australia has overachieved in sport and business. On the other hand, he believes that Australia has underachieved in environmental concerns and culture, especially where this culture touches on the intellect. I completely agree with that.

Incidentally, Wally provides a satirical section on sport aptly called "The Demise of Australian Sport. RIP", an article which only too clearly voices the author's attitudes. Enjoy!

If you are interested in this fascinating Australian culture which barely knows itself and grapples even today with its identity, do take a peek into Convict Creations.

Acknowledging the Plight of Convicts

One thing I find disturbing in the Australian landscape is the subconscious urge to escape our convict history as if it were something to be ashamed of. Admittedly there are a few sites such as this one, dedicated to convict genealogy but what I am alluding to is the gross absence of landmarks and buildings that seem to reinforce the notion that convict history never happened. Blessed the powers that be in 'protecting us' from remembering the vile conduct of authority figures. Indeed.

This may seem fanciful but I have a vision for Brisbane where every single location of convict significance would be properly landmarked, labelled for better recognition and for encouraging awareness of the past. I realise it is an ugly and somewhat morbid attraction but to me, what is uglier is the dissimulation of truth. This is what we have been doing so far (except perhaps in Tasmania at Port Arthur). To begin, Queen Street mall in Brisbane used to be the home of several prominent convict buildings. One of these extended from the intersection with Albert St to what is now the Myer Center. Isolation prison cells were scattered in George St. You can read more about Brisbane's early convict buildings here.

In addition of course, there is Boggo Road Gaol and St Helena Island which are part of the tourist trail.

And there is also this splendid structure which begs elaboration:

Brisbane's oldest surviving European building is this windmill, located at Springhill. It used to be attached to a treadmill where prisoners laboured for hours. And I'm not talking about your average gym treadmill but one on which prisoners did die of exhaustion. Incidentally, a recent project will see this windmill added to the tourist trail. It's about time.

Past Reckonings and Identity Shaping

Escaping from truth, any truth, is not conducive to identity shaping and cultural growth. The history of a country shapes its people over many generations. Just as childhood abuse impacts on an adult's psyche, multiple generations in a country may be shaped by dramatic events suffered over a period. The process is complex but does exist. Choosing to ignore tragic events does not bring the necessary awareness for growth. One must reflect, absorb and come to terms with the past.

Why Do We Love Vampires

2010-05-03T15:18:00.006+10:00

Twilight is to the vampire genre what Harry Potter is to the occult.

Harry Potter (my god it's boring) is safe magic falsely marketed as controversial. It is the PG version of the occult. It's supposed breach of taboo topics which had somehow incensed religious groups was a convenient ploy to lure curious consumers who by virtue of intensive marketing were already avid to get their hands on the latest 'popular' craze. I'm still confused as to why Harry Potter has been so popular. As far as magic and the supernatural goes, I got more kicks reading the bible in my youth.

Now for Twilight. This romantic and no doubt visually stunning fantasy tale lures the teenager into heightened sensual experiences that are otherwise lacking in this generation's R rated, action dominated thrill-inducing films. Because sex these days, is so taboo, so eagerly avoided on English speaking screens that our sensation craving teens subconsciously resort to cheap and safe visual symbolisms that nevertheless semiotically encompass everything there is about sexual tension, the vulnerability of exposed naked flesh, forceful penetration, rushing blood, and explosive orgasm.

Don't get me wrong. There is nothing wrong with wanting any of that. But in the process of giving young audiences what it craves, namely, sex, a vampire genre has been corrupted.

I much preferred Anne Rice's Lestat.

Introversion - What You Need To Know

2010-04-15T21:10:00.019+10:00

According to personality tests, I am an introvert. Individuals who do not understand this trait and have a popular conception of what introversion is will infer that I am therefore 'shy', 'antisocial' or 'quiet'.

Belle prefers her books over the company of obnoxious Gaston

The Introversion Myths

On the surface that is perhaps true, introverts may appear shy and antisocial. But if you dig deeper, more complex mechanisms are at play and these may not even relate to shyness or anti-social behaviour. For example, introverts do not always spend time alone. Some introverts enjoy company and are the life of the party when they do go out and such introverts will fool you into believing that they are extroverts. Again, another misconception with extroversion is that it makes one louder, more sociable and more likely to be on the social stage. That is not always the case.

Then again there are people who are introverted and who like to boast that they can pretend to be 'extroverted'. Again this personal belief that they can somehow 'pretend to be' another personality type is rooted in the popular misconception of what introversion is.
According to the Arousal theory of introversion (which I will describe shortly), the ability to 'become' either an introvert or an extrovert is doubtful. According to this theory, individuals are either one of the other, or perhaps under forces outside their control, they somehow sway between the two but their ability to directly control this trait is not possible.

So what is introversion?

Let's debunk the myths with some psychological theory.

The psychologist Eysenck once proposed that whether we are introverts or extroverts depends on our innate cortical arousal, that is, the degree of brain stimulus that is present in our brain. Eysenck hypothesised that introverts are characterised by higher levels of activity than extroverts and so are chronically more cortically aroused than extroverts. This is called the "stimulation" hypothesis.

To put forward an analogy, introverts have, if you like, a loud party already going on inside. They are already on a high. What this means is that since their internal world is already buzzing, they are going to want to limit the amount of extra stimulus that the outside world brings to them. And yes, that often means spending time alone, limiting their involvement in parties and seeming a little aloof and antisocial.

Redefining Introversion in terms of Human Physiology

As you can imagine, the primary factor that has led to the misconceptions about the nature of introversion is that so often we describe (and test for) introversion in terms of its resulting social behaviour.
But the underlying mechanism for introversion, at least according to Eysenck's theory, is actually physiological, not social. It is this physiological phenomenon which, in turn, results in behaviour that allows the individual to balance their arousal level.

So for an introvert, there will be a desire to reduce/restrict any additional external arousal. On the other hand, for an extrovert, the move will be to increase the total arousal to an ideal level. Whether the individual increases or reduces this arousal via their social behaviour, sporting activities or their lifestyle is entirely up to them.
But their innate physiological state (high arousal for introverts / lower arousal for extroverts) is one thing that individuals can not control. So for those individuals who believe they can 'pretend' to be an extrovert, sorry, you are fooling yourself. Because according to Eysenck's theory, your cortical arousal is something you are stuck with.

The Psychophysiology of Introversion - What is the Proof?

Is Eysenck crapping on?
Apparently not. Granted, his model of personality (consisting of extroversion, neuroticism, psychoticism) is open to controversy and competes with other personality models, but his hypothesised physiological nature of extroversion has so far yielded strong experimental support.

In one study, it was found that introverts salivate more than extroverts in response to a drop of lemon juice. How does this correlate with Eysenck's theory? Well it confirms the tendency of introverts to react more strongly to stimulus (salivate more in this case) because their internal nervous system is already strongly aroused.

Now another example. Pupil dilation is scientifically related to emotional responses. Normally, when individuals view images that are offensive or which they do not like, they exhibit pupil contraction. Conversely, pleasurable or erotic images tend to elicit pupil dilation (which is a wonderful way to determine whether someone is lying when they assert that "no, this woman is not attractive"). Some studies have found that introverts have a stronger pupil constriction response than extroverts when viewing negatively charged images.
The only reason why introverts would have a stronger response to negative images (thereby exhibiting larger pupil contractions) is if in the first place, their propensity to 'reject' extra stimulus is higher than for extroverts. This would confirm that introvert's innate state of arousal is higher than that of extroverts thereby explaining their tendency to more readily restrict unwanted stimulus.

So there you have it, there is a physiological basis for introversion. It would appear introverts' social behaviour is a by product of various physiological factors rather than an innate trait. Something to ponder about...

Is There Such a Thing as an Average Introvert

Not really.

Baloo the Extrovert and Bagheera the Introvert?
Well for a start, let's look at demographics. We represent about 30% of the population. That's less than half of the population. We are a minority.

We are also, according to studies, slightly more intelligent than extroverts. But don't get excited, you need more than intelligence to progress in life, in fact the debate over whether the best leaders are introverts or extroverts continues.

In the end, other personality traits such as neuroticism, risk-taking, grit, desire for control, desire for new experiences and psychoticism are all integrated into making a person. You can appreciate why introversion alone is not the guiding light in all social behaviour.

Having said that, there is evidence that introverts are more likely to rate higher than extroverts in scales of neuroticism, depression and negative affect (the tendency to feel negative emotions on a daily basis). Conversely, extroversion tends to be associated with higher ratings in positive affect (the tendency to feel good and have positive emotions and enthusiasm), together with higher ratings for aggression and risk-taking.

Surviving in an Extrovert's World.

I have already mentioned that most people are extroverted.
Social norms, as the term 'norm' would indicate, represent the accepted social behaviour of the majority. And we introverts must, often against our deepest wishes, suffer the majority. Often we don't have a choice.

Before I go on with how working and performing effectively may be a struggle for introverts living in an extrovert's world, I want to present another psychological theory.

The Yerkes-Dodson Law.

This law stipulates that "some intermediate level of arousal is optimal for performance" (Eysenck & Eysenck, 1985, p. 199).

In other words, it doesn't matter whether you are an introvert or an extrovert, your performance (e.g. on a stage, at work, at sport) is at its peak when you reach an optimum level of arousal.

So if we had a graph with the bottom axis indicating the external Arousal Level, performance for both extroverts and introverts would be represented with an inverted U shape curve.

Performance as a Function of Arousal
This curve would peak at a lower level of external arousal for introverts than for extroverts. This is because extroverts have, if you recall, a lower level of innate arousal, and therefore require more stimulus before they reach the same performance peak as introverts.

This theory has found support. Geen (1984) measured the preferred stimulation levels in introverts and extroverts and its effects on their arousal and performance. The results indicated that introverts choose a lower level of noise than do the extroverts, and both introverts and extroverts show no difference in arousal and performance with their preferred noise level.

So in other words, if we were all to perform at our best, we would need to each choose our optimum external stimulus level. Unfortunately in many situations, it is the majority which will ultimately choose the degree of 'acceptable' stimulus. So on average, in the world, the amount of external stimulus seems to be an extrovert ideal but not an introvert ideal.

Performing in an Extrovert's World - The Struggles of an Introvert

Let's take two people. Mary is an extrovert. At work, she has no problems typing away and working at her computer while chatting to her boss and having two people looking over her shoulder and discussing what she is doing.

Enter Belinda. Belinda is an introvert. Belinda and Mary are both as proficient as each other but only when both can work at their chosen optimum external stimulus level.

Unfortunately, Belinda works in an average extroverted office. She can not often choose her optimum external stimulus level. As soon as someone looks behind her shoulder, interrupts her or starts to talk, she suddenly loses her ability to perform or forgets what she was doing. Hell, she can't type as quickly as usual or she makes dumb mistakes and hates herself for appearing less competent than she actually really is in front of co-workers.
(This is of course an extreme scenario but it is not an exaggeration.)

What is going on? Well if you remember, Belinda the introvert already has a higher state of innate arousal than Mary. She could do with quiet music but any more than this and she may experience stimulus overflow. She can work fine alone but under the given stimulus conditions, her performance begins to degrade.

Now obviously this example assumes that neither Mary nor Belinda suffer from performance anxiety or social anxiety which would be a different thing altogether and which may also affect their public performance. So assuming that is not the case, this is then, the difference between an introvert and an extrovert at work.

Introverts need more space, more quiet, more time to reflect alone, less buzz around them. They are more likely to do well in smaller groups or on a one on one scenario.

Something organisations should consider.

Now what about Interviews?

I find interviews to be a bit of a joke. Mainly because, unless an introvert is actually doing the interviewing, the bombastic nature of the interview inherently gives an advantage to extroverts. No, really. Do you know how much effort it takes for an introvert to be bombarded by questions and have to rely on chit chat and quick come backs to prove that they are the right person for a sales job? It's hard. In fact most Sales people are extroverted.

Too Much Information! Talk to the Hand

Even in daily work situations, too much oral information can bombard the introvert to the point that they can't handle it. I mean it. There were times in the past when I would just switch off from conversations because it all became too much.

I've since realised that my best weapon against oral bombardment is to write things down. I can happily jot down the bulk of what the most garrulous extroverted group of people digest in one meeting and not understand anything of what is being said.

It is only afterwards, when I return to my quiet cocooned state of optimal introvert arousal that I can read my notes, think back to what was said and finally make sense of the conversation! I'm a bit of a zombie in some meetings but in the end, I survive and can do the work.

Sill however, you can see that life is not always easy for introverts.

Recovering from Parties

Traditionally, parties are the other bane of the introvert. Personally I've given up. If I attend a party, I stay a maximum of three-four hours and then I'm off. Otherwise, I may incur a migraine or it takes me about three days to four days to recover from the stimulus overflow.

Party Time for Extroverts is Always Fun

Antisocial, huh? You try dealing with the party in my brain.

Conclusion

There you have it, being an introvert is more than anything to do with shyness or anti-social behaviour.

It's a physiological state of being which often, but not always, happens to affect social behaviour but which more often than not can really make life difficult for introverts.

Introverts are not weird. They are only attempting to survive in an extrovert's world. They attempt to fend off excess external stimulus in any ways they can, yes, even by shirking from social contact and appearing shy. But if they do this it is only because they want to maintain an optimum state of arousal, something that extroverts, so comfortable are they in this buzzing world, take for granted.

Girl with a Gun

2010-03-24T23:11:00.004+10:00

No sooner had I started work after almost two years of being a self-employed writer/student that my social life exploded in my face.

I was invited to a 60s themed birthday party a couple of weeks ago.
Everyone looked swish in their psychedelic mini shift dresses and coloured knee high boots. I didn't follow the 60s theme, preferring to wear a black mini skirt and a cream and black polka dot corset that I had succumbed to while shopping in Bardot.
I tried saying I was Minnie Mouse but my delicious hostess corrected me and said I had come as Betty Page. I knew better than to contradict the birthday girl!

One of the guests who was wearing khaki ranger pants and shirt carried a revolver attached to his waist. So I asked if I could "borrow his gun" and decided to pose with it. Shane took a couple of photos of me.

This was taken about an hour before I developed introversion-itis and left the party early. I still had some energy left when it was taken and the noise/smoke/alcohol had not yet affected me.

Dinner at the Boatshed

2010-03-22T18:04:00.014+10:00

Last Tuesday, Shane and I had dinner at the Boatshed Restaurant. The back story behind this is that before that Tuesday, I had not touched steak for over a year. And recently while walking home from the gym, I would endure the tempting smell of char grilled steak lingering in my neighbourhood. After almost two months of craving a good steak, I decided it was time to return to the Boatshed.

Now the last time I visited this spacious, breezy restaurant tucked behind the Regatta Bar was for a lunch in 2004. That's way too long ago. I also remember having a dinner there in late 2002 among friends while an obnoxious band played. Luckily, Tuesday night was particularly quiet. We were able to choose a table and sit in roomy rotund style armchairs.

To begin, we ordered the cheesy garlic bread which was without hesitation the best garlic bread I've ever tasted. The serving was huge and the cheesy melt really brought out the garlic flavour.

Unable to wait much longer for my cannibalist fix, I skipped entrees and dived into mains. I ordered the 300g Rib Fillet with Beer Battered Fries, Bearnaise Sauce and Season Vegetables.

The meat was tasty, tender and its outer coat was grilled to perfection. The fries were wonderful. I have however three critiques:
1. I asked for a medium to well done steak and I believed it was a little undercooked inside. I would have called that medium.
2. The season vegetables were cut too large.
3. the bearnaise was too sharp on the lemon and I barely discerned the estragon. It was a bit of a disappointment because I adore estragon. In the end, I ate the steak without the sauce.
But overall, I was very happy with my meal and I rate the Boatshed over Cha Cha Char any day.

Shane had the Reef and Beef. He loved it and his fresh seafood and potato mash looked delicious.

Seeing we were both full, we decided to share a dessert. We had initially chosen a QLD Pineapple and coconut cake but unfortunately, this tantalising pick was not available on that night! So we agreed on the Creme Brulee with the Rasberry Coulis and Almond Biscotti.

I enjoyed the rich double cream- ice cream accompanying the Creme Brulee and found the whole dessert subtle and pleasing. Overall though I prefer my auntie's home made caramelised flan!

Perfume - Story of a Murderer or a Genius?

2010-02-23T19:10:00.004+10:00

Perfume (2006) is a passable adaptation of Patrick Suskind's exceptional novel,"Perfume".

The premise of the story is based on the notion that unknown to most people, it is scent, not physical beauty, that more powerfully attracts us to a particular person over another. It is scent (today, psychologists would say, pheromones) that spellbinds us and makes us warm to and feel an affinity towards others upon first meeting them.

While Perfume is the story of a socially inept man, his crimes, his passion for the making of perfume and his unfortunate upbringing in the city of Paris, I think it is also a commentary on people in general.

In this short review, I want to posit that we, unlike the main character Grenouille, are primitive. Throughout the story, we are given a portrait of Grenouille, the murderer. Yet who are we to label him a murderer given the fact that our olfactory sense remains in primitive stage and since as evidenced by the book's last passage, we lack control for the most important sense that partly governs our behaviour.

You could make the mistake of watching this movie, believing, that after all, your senses will awaken more strongly to the sight of images on the big screen rather than to words in a book. You are wrong. If you watch "Perfume", you will not be transported to the stench of 18th century France, nor will you partake in Grenouille's supernatural olfactory gift. You will not experience his brutal, miserly upbringing, nor will you delight in his colorful journey towards the discovery of perfume making. You will fail to understand his drive to create a unique perfume even at the cost of murdering women, of murdering one virgin after another with no regard for life. In short, you will become like the bygone perfumer, Giuseppe Baldini. Watching this film would be like smelling and falling under the spell of "Amor and Psyche" and yet, failing to distinguish its individual components. Finally if you haven't read the book, you may even shun Suskind's evocative masterpiece. That would be a tragic loss.

Why do I write this? I believe that the film is too prude, perhaps even naive, in its exploration of Grenouille's psyche. While reading the book, I remember feeling a mixture of pity, repulsion, dislike and much later, respect, for a genius that I could not understand and who, though socially amoral, still managed to inspire admiration for his talent and his personal integrity. In the film though, the main character's complexity is cheaply diluted. Grenouille is not portrayed with the same motivations and drive. The film's portrayal was almost comical rather than psychopathic.

To compound the poor characterisation, is the annoying off screen narrator. I have not felt like this about a narrator since Oliver Stone's Alexander. With Perfume, every time I tried to lose myself in the sensory journey, here was the narrator, distracting me again, instructing me what Grenouille was supposedly thinking at every passing moment. This was frustrating and inaccurate considering that having read the book, I was aware of what Grenouille was supposed to be thinking and this differed significantly.

So now comes the climax of my contention. It is the very final scene, in Paris, where the great perfumer makes a life changing decision after so many years of intense searching and self-discipline. That scene was pathetically staged. The long shot distances us from the carnage and doesn't make the powerful point it should. Why is this scene so important? In it, a group of vagrants, or dare I say the wretch of society is exposed to Grenouille's powerful perfume. It is the perfect perfume, as far as Grenouille is concerned. It is what has obsessed him for years. He douses himself with it and waits. What will be the people's reaction to this most powerful scent? After all, they are beggars and outcasts but hardly criminal...Their reaction? Well they eat him. The book's depiction evokes animalistic flesh eating, blood and orgiastic cannibalism. It brings the reader to a suspenseful, horrifying climax. As Grenouille is literally devoured, we the readers are invited to contrast the senseless behaviour of mere mortals under the effect of powerful scents, with that of a man who had to live with these very powerful scents all his life.

The question raised in this crucial part of the book is whether we would not also be murderers if we could experience scents to the degree that Grenouille was able to experience them. Or would we be worse than murderers perhaps? This is why I think relatively speaking, this final scene was not dealt with very well in the film. It should have raised a question about our own primal instincts. It should make us realise that perhaps Grenouille is much more sophisticated than his earlier portrayal gave him credit for and that we are not.

Nanni Moretti's Caro Diario - An Italian Culture Analysis

2010-02-03T16:45:00.000+10:00

Nanni Moretti’s Caro Diario (1993) can be theorised as a merging of several critical discourses directed at contemporary Italian bourgeoisie and intellectuals together with the social injustice that they perpetuate. Both ‘In Vespa’ and ‘Isole’ scorn Italian culture for its bourgeois capitalistic aspirations and its complacency. During ‘In Vespa’, Moretti aligns with the minority to inform his discourse against social injustices. Meanwhile, Moretti’s internal journey and self-realisations throughout Caro Diario is an observation on the Italian individual’s inactivity and passivity in life. Finally ‘Medici’ is critical of Italian authority figures and other national power institutions that have broken people’s trust.

‘In Vespa’ constructs a discourse against the undesirable transformation of Italian society over the last 30 years. During the 1960s, Italy underwent an economic boom which saw much of the population adopt consumerism as a status symbol (Rascaroli, “New Voyages” 77). The migration of newly affluent Italians to the modern suburban houses is conceptualised as a grotesque adoption of normative middle class practices and of consumerism. As Moretti rides his vespa through the city of Rome, he overtly reflects on his fondness for the older Garbatella suburb and Ponte Flaminio. But then while strolling through a more modern middle class suburb, he mocks the uniformity of its dwellers’ lifestyle, including their addiction to videotapes and slippers. A long, panning shot of modern urban apartments with their stacked geometric form further conveys the crude homogeneity attributed to Italian middle class capitalists. As if to emphasise this discourse, ‘In Vespa’ includes a passage from an Italian film. It depicts a lounge gathering between a group of affluent Italians who lament their lack of passion and their passivity. The dialogue acts as a metaphor for how Moretti considers Italian society. The film’s grim quality and gray-blue tones mirror Moretti’s concerns about the ‘new’ being hopelessly dull and dispassionate.

Moretti’s external journey during ‘In Vespa’ denotes that Italian culture has foregone its past refinement and desire for social justice in favour of vulgar mass consumerism. This discourse is subtly informed by references to director Pasolini. In real life interviews, Moretti has revealed his love for the more radical, political cinema of the 1960s, such as that of Pasolini (Mazierska and Rascaroli 11). Conversely, it becomes clear as Moretti cringes in his seat while watching an Italian film session, that contemporary film horrifies him. As evinced by his commentary on Rome’s suburbs, Moretti seems to agree with Pasolini that the past “contained a sacredness and poetry which the contemporary Cartesian world had lost” (Rohdie 9). Moretti’s visit to Pasolini’s grave pays an homage to past cinema while also lamenting the refined past that Italians have abandoned for their new capitalistic lifestyle. The grave, it turns out, is a remote, unkept and isolated stone sculpture which renders the symbolic neglect of the sacred only too apparent. Pasolini’s reality is “the reality of the poor, [...] the things that European bourgeoisie incarcerated, expelled beyond its borders” (Rohdie 12). Pasolini’s neglected grave mirrors society’s abandonment of fine cinema, and with it, the shunning of the poor in favour of capitalism.

Pier Paolo Pasolini
Caro Diario’s ‘In Vespa’ further highlights social injustices in Italian society by endorsing the concerns of ‘the other’. Moretti has been critical of Italian comedy (Mazierska and Rascaroli 12, 87) whose tendencies is to address social issues by poking fun at marginal society, working class and the poorer, uneducated milieu. ‘In Vespa’ functions in the opposite way to Italian comedy because Moretti pokes fun at his own class and aligns himself with the marginal masses. He boldly converses with a driver at a traffic light and tells him that he is “...comfortable and in agreement only with a minority”. This autobiographical component of ‘In Vespa’ reminds the audience that while Moretti may be an affluent intellectual in real life, he aligns himself with ‘the other’. Later, Moretti immerses himself into world music as if to convey his siding with this other. In particular, Moretti dances to the beat of ‘Didi’, a Rai hit by Algerian-French singer, Cheb Khaled. Before its popularity, Rai music originated from the poorer societies of Algeria who were eager to voice social concerns affecting the native population (Rai, Wikipedia). By embracing the moors of the marginal ‘other’ Moretti remains critical of traditional Italian comedy and of the affluent, intellectual community of which he himself is part.

Caro Diario also constructs its anti-intellectualism discourse by advocating for a direct form of communication that can be understood by all. Conducive to this discourse, is the focus on television during ‘In Vespa’ and ‘Isole’. Television is traditionally seen as a source of entertainment devoid of depth and intellectualism. In ‘Isole’, Gerardo, who initially professes his long avoidance of television, eventually becomes addicted to soap programs as far as running away from Alicudi. According to ‘Isole’, Gerardo’s unlikely endorsement of soap programs attests to the value of television. Meanwhile, Gerardo’s written protest to the pope is an indirect criticism of the rigid religious institution, so pervasive in Italian society. It questions the disfavour into which television programs have been placed by reminding Italy of the value of television for meaningful cultural exchange and as a “direct mean of communication” (Rascaroli, “Caro Diario” 239). Television is, in essence, communication that is attainable to all, regardless of education. By appraising television’s qualities, Caro Diario denounces society’s more obscure forms of communication which tend to ensure that intellectuals or political groups remain in power and propagate social injustice.

‘Isole’’s other important discourse criticises the prevalent complacency within Italian society and Italians’ inability to see reality as it really stands so as to eventually improve it along with themselves. During ‘Isole’, Gerardo and Moretti travel through a succession of islands which can be conceived as a micro version of Italy, together with its different regions and villages where people speak different dialects. The chapter paints an Italian complacency, one derived from an absurd sense of self-sufficiency and a lack of clear vision for reality. In Salina, surrealistic passages denote the absurdity of adults trapped into interminable conversations with pampered children intent on monopolising telephone exchanges. Just as Salina’s indulging parents are highly unaware of their own absurdity, so to, is the mayor of Stromboli hopelessly blind to the hostility of his island’s inhabitants. Gerardo and Moretti finding no place to remain on inhospitable Stromboli, are promptly escorted to their boat where the mayor prescribes irrelevant solutions in the form of a fountain and ornamental music in an attempt to improve his island. Again, the mayor can not see reality for what it is and shifts instead to tangential issues. Finally, the people of Alicudi, so proud of their asceticism and isolation also remain self-satisfied and blind to the detriments of their own condition.

According to Rascaroli, the mayor of Stromboli represents the Italian government’s tendency to offer “easy and generic choices” (“Caro Diario” 240). I would argue that it is not so much the suggested solution that is in error but rather, the blind diagnosis and the absence of an awareness which itself points to an inherent complacency within Italian society. This discourse is further emphasised in ‘Medici’ where local doctors continue to be blind to Moretti’s true illness and prescribe irrelevant drugs to solve a medical condition which they have failed to diagnose. ‘Medici’ scorns Italian doctors for being too complacent to even doubt their own judgement or search more deeply into Moretti’s illness as the Chinese doctors did. Just as Stromboli’s mayor remains blind to the real problems on his island, so to are the doctors who can not see Moretti’s true ailment. In essence, Caro Diario highlights the complacency of Italian society which it sees as a veritable scourge since it hampers individual and national growth through relevant solutions.

Similarly, Caro Diario’s autobiographical components construct a discourse to criticise the individual’s passivity and self-satisfaction. According to this, the individual, both in Italy and elsewhere, has failed to embark on those activities that were once planned and have since been neglected. In ‘Vespa’, Moretti alludes to having always wanted to dance and never doing so. Meanwhile in ‘Isole’ after entrusting his list of tasks to Gerardo, he claims “I have done none of the things I wanted to do”. Later, in ‘Medici’, the autobiographical component functions as a metonym for the individual at the universal level, who, when made vulnerable by illness is suddenly confronted with a renewed sense of their own mortality. Caro Diario therefore underlines the dangers of the individual’s inactivity. It presses the individual to act before it is too late.

Finally ‘Medici’, through its depiction of highly imperfect medical institutions, is a discourse against Italian authority as a whole, be it political or religious. ‘Medici’ is critical of powerful national institutions that have failed to deliver solutions and broken people’s trust. As made clear by Rascaroli (“Caro Diario” 241), Moretti appears fragile during his visits to the doctor. This is a metaphor for the vulnerability of the everyday citizen of any country who, powerless and often, against their will, places their trust in some power institution in the hope that they will not be disappointed. But as the succession of incorrect diagnoses ensue and as Moretti’s condition worsens, it is clear that disappointment often occurs.

Works Consulted:

Caro Diario. Dir. Nanni Moretti. Hopscotch Entertainment, 1993.

Mazierska, Eva and Rascaroli, Laura. The Cinema of Nanni Moretti: Dreams and Diaries. London: Wallflower Press, 2004.

Rai. Wikipedia. Undated. 13 Aug 2009 .

Rascaroli, Laura. “New Voyages to Italy: Postmodern Travellers and the Italian Road Film.” Screen 44 (2003): 71-91.

Rascaroli, Laura. “Caro Diario: Dear Diary”. The Cinema of Italy. Ed. Georgio Bertellini London: Wallflower Press, 2007. 235-43.

Rohdie, Sam and Pasolini, Pier Paolo. The Passion of Pier Paolo Pasolini. Bloomington, Indiana: Indiana University Press, 1995.

I wrote this essay as part of a European Film Course.

Ming Gothic

2010-02-02T23:28:00.005+10:00

Today is a great day in the history of literature!

I have created a new novel genre called "Ming Gothic". This, by the way, is also the name of a Font I stumbled onto while working on my novel's website. I did not use the font in the end but was inspired by its name...

According to this site, Gothic literature includes elements such as: an ancient prophecy; omens/visions; supernatural or otherwise inexplicable events; women in distress; women threatened by a powerful, impulsive, tyrannical male; the metonymy of gloom and horror (including a sense of mystery, danger); and overwrought emotion.

All these elements feature in my novel and are integrated within Ming history which makes for a perfect coinage of "Ming Gothic".

Why would I want to create this new genre?

1. A Different Type of Historical Novel - I had never thought of my novel as an 'epic' even though the sheer scale of the story was a superficial indication that it may fit that description. Also, unlike Edward Rutherfurd's historical novels which tend to have multiple serial plots and introduce/drop characters while progressing along multiple centuries, my novel retains all its characters, is considerably narrower in focus (it only spans 40 years) and has an ongoing central plot element.

2. Doing Away with Action Figures - I also wanted to shift conception of what this novel could be about, especially for Western readers who may not be familiar with Chinese history. Whenever I am asked, "What is your novel about?" and I answer, "It is a historical novel set in Ming China", I shudder to think what is going on in the other person's mind. After all, setting the novel in China invites all sorts of stereotypical speculation that the story may deal with 'warlords', 'warriors', 'kung fu masters', 'travelling monks', 'young apprentices being taught swordsmanship' and the likes. So overall, I wanted to do away with this Action type view of Chinese characters which in a sense has been perpetuated by films.

3. Changing Perceptions - Another reason is perhaps more ambitious. I basically do not want the English-speaking reader to experience medieval China as an exotic 'other'. Rather, I want them to conceive a world or rather, an atmosphere that is known universally through the Gothic form.

4. Future Projects - Finally, in the future, I am interested in writing another novel set in Ming China. Together, these books will I hope pioneer the genre of Ming Gothic.

Jealousy and Insecurity - Malena

2010-01-23T09:45:00.007+10:00

I was talking to a friend the other day about the film, Malena.

I love this movie. Malena is the story of a beautiful woman living in a village in Sicily. It is WWII and her husband is away at war. She lives alone in a remote house outside the village. At night, she abandons herself to her fantasies and longings, dancing and dreaming in privacy...well, not so private since her young admirers are often lurking in the darkness stealing glances at her in a nightgown.
During the day she walks quietly to the village where she is ritually subjected to blatant gawking by youths and aged alike, lewd remarks and the cruel gossip of both spiteful jealous women and lustful, yet denying, men. Malena is so judged and hated because of her beauty that village people project onto her all sorts of fabrications about her character and morality.

Halfway through the film, Malena becomes destitute. No one will help her except a lustful judge who will only help her at...a price. Things become worse for Malena. She has no food, is hungry and becomes desperate to do anything for food. Soon after, she becomes a prostitute, not only to survive, but as a self-fulfilling prophecy following the way she is seen and regarded by the people in the village.

The scene where Malena publicly emerges into her role as prostitute is one of my favourites. Where once she walked gracefully with her head lowered, in this scene, she pounds the ground with her heels strutting her wasp silhouette and sits provocatively right in the middle of the city square where ironically, the men have been gossiping about her questionable morality for years. Malena sits there among the men that she previously avoided and never frequented. The once shy Malena, in a gesture of worldly sophistication, takes out a cigarette and raises it to her bright red lips...And what do you think happens? Well, the hypocritical men all reach out with their lighter.

It is a disturbing scene for me. It speaks volume about some men's behaviour. I feel so much sympathy for Malena.

Following this, Malena entertains German soldiers much to the rage of the village women. While they go on suffering in the last months of the war, Malena, who has been pushed into becoming the very vain, self-interested woman they judged her to be, is sleeping with Germans, is well clothed, well fed and is able to survive. But the war ends and those who are embittered by it will soon seek revenge...

And so it happens that the women of the village, fueled by their long standing jealousy for Malena, drag her out savagely into the city square. There, they furiously stab, stone, punch, shave and beat her under the silent, watchful eye of the men. In this scene, the indignance that these self-righteous, shrieking women supposedly feel towards a traitor is but a sham. It is a pretext for their jealousy and their deep-seated need to destroy someone they have always seen as a threat.

They do destroy her. When they are done with her, she wails like a broken animal, glaring her sad, reproachful eyes at everyone around her. In her tears she finally expresses years of resentment and hurt so that the entire market square stands in stone, shocked by her outburst.
I'll leave it at that but that's the gist of the film.

What Malena means to me and why some insecure people are pathetic
I think insecure people can act mean a lot. From what I've learnt or observed, they will strategically say certain things to devalue what you have whenever it threatens them. By dismissing you, it allows them to feel better about themselves. What else...if they happen to value popularity, then they slander you to ruin your relationship/reputation with others.
They also, like in Malena, will apply all sorts of moral judgments on you to justify their ill feelings towards you, ill feelings which in the first place result from their jealousy and not from some deep-seated moral belief as they like to tell themselves and others.

What I don't like about these people is that if you were to confront them about their behaviour, they would be in denial. So you can't get them to admit their insecurities, you can't help them change or grow. They are stuck unless they learn to make themselves feel good intrinsically and develop some confidence without trashing that of others. And since in the meantime, they are stuck, you end up stuck with their negativity. And no one should have to put up with that.

Another thought...you want to soar, learn more or try something daring but insecure people will want to keep you in your designated little box so that they can avoid feeling threatened by your potential success.

Or else...they will resent you for trying what they dared not and wish you to fail so that it justifies their own decision to Not-try.

Really life is too short for this kind of thinking.

How I Became a Producer, Stylist and Model in one Day

2010-01-21T00:13:00.012+10:00

I organised a photoshoot for myself recently. I thought it would be fun and a great souvenir. I love the stylistic aspects of fashion photography. One of my many ideal jobs would be to somehow get involved in perfume ads. Perfume ads are always so grand in design and have such lavish costumes and sets.

Shane took the three photos I am posting here. They were taken with my personal camera (which is nothing special, not even an SLR) so I think they look pretty nice.
The actual photos from the shoot are being processed. I will share them with friends in time.

My self-imposed mini project consisted of a number of small tasks. These may come as a surprise to some people...As someone with a previous IT background, I personally realised how much effort it takes for such projects as fashion photography. My respect for models has also increased.

1. Location scouting - I couldn't afford to design my own set so I was on the hunt to find a pretty place around Brisbane. I was after an opulent, plush look with an antique feel. For one of the locations, I initially wanted to take the photos in Laruche but in the end, I decided on Zuri.

2. Location Recce - this is where I visited the locations to ensure they were suitable and decided on the exact spot where the photos would be taken.

3. Booking a Make-up artist, Hair Stylist - I chose Billie Weston. I had seen an album of her work for a number of modelling shoots and knew that I would like her. I also knew that she was very talented at both make up and hair based on what I had observed while invited on a recent film set.

4. Stylistic decisions - I made all decisions relating to Clothing/Jewellery/Props. I owned the clothing already so that part was easy! Shane had bought me a gorgeous black choker for Christmas which I happily used for part of the shoot. I also discussed hair and make up with my make-up artist beforehand.

5. Booking a photographer - this was very tricky. I knew a number of them and they were all very good including Eric Murano, Mark Greenmantle, Clarissa Bones and Tamaryn Goodyear. Among other projects, Tamaryn has worked on the short film set I mentioned previously. In the end, I opted for Eric Murano Photography.

6. Photographic Briefs - After selecting Eric Murano Photography, I put together a couple of 'ideal shots' instructions on his request. Eric and I then agreed on details such as shot angles, perspectives, intensity and background appearance. Eric was keen to deliver the look I was after and recently, after seeing the proofs he sent me, I have to tell you that he did!!

7. The Shoot! The total time for this (including hair/makeup time) was about 6 hours. I was sweating a bit but I had organised taxis to go from location to location. We had to wait outside Zuri in the heat because they took a while to open their doors. Shane bought me a water bottle half way through because I was dehydrated. How do models cope??? Now I understand why they get paid so much...

Creativity

2010-01-18T16:13:00.006+10:00

Creativity is not a fad that one adopts and wears as a status symbol. No. It is grimy and self-sacrificing. It locks itself in isolation for days and emerges at whim. In a conversation, it embraces all possibilities, eluding the facts and the established knowledge du jour. It is often showered in ridicule. Often imprisoned.

Creativity is immersion in activities and products that most people can not understand. It is doing something that will often take the non-creative mind months, years, perhaps decades, to appreciate. It is often visionary.

True creativity transcends the current fashions and their popular appeal. True creativity does not cater for the masses. It is beyond the masses.

Creativity in no way seeks to make one cool or popular.
Popularity often results in the propagation of ideas and behaviours that echo established opinions and ideological desires or strategically rebels against them.
Fuck popularity.

Take a book, for example. The masses will make a book popular by consuming and devouring it.
If it is published, it will be to cater for the whims of the masses with the very purpose of making $$$money$$$.

Fuck the masses.

My Delicious Holidays

2010-01-06T11:54:00.005+10:00

After finishing my degree on 20 November, I had planned to work on my novel and get it to the completion stage. The good news is that I did manage to write a fair bit before the Christmas period so that I have about 9 days of writing to go before starting the editing process. The bad news, is that recently, I have been distracted by far too many social events...my alibi for not yet having completed my novel's 1st draft.

So here is a snippet of the fun I have been up to.

On 12 December, I attended a lovely housewarming at a friend's place. She lives in Newfarm and her riverside apartment offers gorgeous views of the Story Bridge. Again, it made me seriously consider moving to Newfarm.

Over Christmas, I stayed at my boyfriend's place in Teneriffe. For three days, he cooked delicious food for me and we saw Lovely Bones and Sherlock Holmes at the cinema on Boxing Day.

Apart from the wonderful sets, costumes and witty screenplay, one aspect I most preferred in Sherlock Holmes was Hans Zimmer's playfully engaging soundtrack. It is now one of my favourite soundtracks. I interrupt this post to share with you my top favourite film tracks of all time:

1. Hans Zimmer- The Might of Rome for Gladiator

especially from 1:21 onwards

2. Vangelis - End Titles for Blanderunner

3. Lisa Gerrard - Whale Rider

4. Hans Zimmer - Discombobulate for Sherlock Holmes

5. Mark Isham - Flames for Crash

especially from 2:18 onwards

Now, where were we???

During the new year period, I tried three Brisbane restaurants with a good reputation.

The first one was Belle Epoque at Emporium.
I would have liked this restaurant more if the chef had not chosen to share his fastidious aversion to cooking a well done steak.
I would also have liked it more if the Steak and Frites had arrived heaped up on a plate as in most parts of France, rather than as it did, bite size with the fries served separately in what looked suspiciously like an ashtray.
I lament that this restaurant served to reinforce negative French stereotypes. I can assure you that eating out in places like Lyon, Corsica and Marseilles, is a casual and generous affair. None of this attitude.
I ordered the Bouillabaise. It was delicious with generous portions of fresh seafood. But the saffron aroma was more voluptuous in Bistro Vite's Bouillabaise which I had in Melbourne three years ago.
Overall, lovely rustic decor.

On New Year's Eve, I booked in for a celebratory night at the Hilton. Shane and I had dinner at the Hilton's Atrium buffet restaurant. All the meat dishes were exquisite and I loved the baby bocconcini & tomato salad. My favourite dessert was the cheesecake although I was disappointed with the spongy pavlova.
Breakfast was also fantastic!

Finally yesterday, Shane took me to Garuva in the Valley. This was by far my favourite place this summer. So three cheers for Garuva!

I had not been there for almost five years. I still adore the jungle feel in their lounge with its large animal print cushions laid out all over the floor and the green palms glowing under dim lights. When we arrived, the cocktail lounge was conveniently empty so after one eager sip of my juicy Garuva Ecstasy, I proceeded to crawl onto the stage and do a seductive dance before realising I hated the song. Oh, I forgot to mention that while crawling onto the stage, I was giggling so hard that I choked and began to cough furiously. Basically, Laura and alcohol do not mix.
Anyway, we were then escorted to our draped enclosure in the dark dining area.

Now if you haven't been to Garuva, the dining area consists of low, Asian style tables flanked by couches. Each table area is enclosed by white silky looking drapes suspended from the ceiling. Overall you could be forgiven for imagining that you are in a Japanese gothic story and that the drapes are floating in mid air swaying under ghostly breezes.

Oh dear, I have been distracted by the ambient decor and have not given due attention to the food. Absolutely fantastic. The Baha Beef was tasty and tender, coconut prawns were delicious, I could barely finish the bountiful tempura vegetables and the BBQ fish was one of the best fish I ever had. Overall, 11 out of 10 for meal size, flavour and quality.
Now the only thing I would have liked more of in Garuva, is privacy...

So that's for my dining experiences this summer. If that wasn't enough, I am heading to a film screening/pool party at a friend's place on Friday night. I am very much looking forward to it, everyone is so nice and so positive. I love creative and positive people who are not concerned with matters of consequences. They truly are amazing. Oh, wait, it's not the end. The day after that, I have to submit myself to a photoshoot which I admit I have organised for my vain self. But it will be lots of fun.

I may just be able to write this week but for now, I am still enjoying my delicious holidays.

The 99 and a Glimpse of Batina the Hidden

2009-12-28T13:38:00.009+10:00

Origins
In 2006, by accident, I came across an article about a certain Dr Naif Al-Mutawa, a clinical psychologist who wanted to make positive images of Islam available, especially to children. The article explained that Dr Mutawa had created The 99, a group of 99 superheroes whose names and superpowers were derived from the 99 attributes of Allah. Teshkeel Comics had not yet launched The 99 Comic at the time when I was reading this.

Back then, I became obsessed with The 99, stalking the Teshkeel Comics website for a glimpse of more characters as their full description became available. At work, I used one of The 99 Wallpapers on my desktop background for a couple of years. Every day, I would stare at it in the hope that I would become inspired by Al-Mutawa's brilliant social vision. This is what it looked like:

The 99 Poster (from www.the99.org)
I had hoped, then, that I was not the only one, out of many non-Muslims living in a non-Muslim country, who could see the socio-cultural value of multicultural superheroes each embodying positive Islamic attributes and together, telling the world about the diversity of Islam.

Cultivating Tolerance and Understanding
I saw in The 99, an entertaining and colourful concept suited to our increasingly global environment. I also saw, at last, a positive image of Islam (and its history) so long lacking in Western popular culture and in some cases, absent even, from Islamic popular culture. In addition, I admired Dr Al-Mutawa for having shifted the attention from Western-centric paradigms and encouraged the world to embrace the possibility of pluralistic cultures.

That was a mouthful. But one better way to describe it, is the response my aunt gave me after I sent her the link to the recently available Endemol Trailer for The 99 animation. Now you must know that my aunt, born in France, is half French and half Vietnamese and is married to an American of Dutch origin. Her children inherit that cultural mix. Meanwhile, like me, she was born in the Roman Catholic Church and like me, she now has no current religious inclination. However, when she read about the concept behind The 99, she was extremely enthusiastic. This, she said, was the kind of media entertainment that she wanted her children exposed to. She wanted her children to grow up in a spirit of tolerance and understanding for many ways of being. She was keen.

My aunt does not have a social psychology degree or an understanding of advertising and the media. But she understood that the more we are exposed to something new and unfamiliar, the more we like it... and ultimately seek information to understand it.

Doing away with Prejudices and Misinformation
For too long, non-Muslim parts of the world have been exposed to negative images of Islam through the media. This has created misunderstanding and fear for those in the West who are not exposed to other, counterbalanced realities of the Muslim world. For example, images of oppressed Muslim women are rampant and while this may be true in countries like Afghanistan, this is hardly the reality in many parts of the Muslim world. Meanwhile, Western cultures associate Islam with the Middle East which itself is unfortunately further associated with 'conflict in the Middle East' or extremism. Thanks to the media, being Muslim has also been equated to being Arab. But in fact, there are Muslims in Indonesia, Malaysia and Senegal who are not Arabs. And...there are Arabs, like myself (I'm half), who are not Muslim. Meanwhile, there are important Muslim populations in Russia, China, France, Eastern Europe and Thailand.

The trusted eunuchs that Ming China sent to navigate the oceans and collect world tributes in the 15th century were Muslims. And the strong woman who, after the Grenada Caliphate had fallen in 1492, reproached her son with, "You do well to weep like a woman for the city you would not defend like a man", was Muslim.

It is almost 2010 and, if you google The 99, you will find that the concept has been welcomed in many parts of the world. I am so glad.

Still though, the shift from a long established paradigm is painful for some. In some websites, I have read cynical posts in response to The 99. Apparently suspicion is rife for a concept that is conceived as mere propaganda by those with strongly established anti-Islamic prejudices. After all, as humans, we tend to seek out information that is compatible with our beliefs and reject information that contradicts our beliefs. It is not surprising then, that The 99 will be rejected by some. I could go on about ingroups and outgroups right about here and infuriate my reader by indulging in social psychological discourse but I won't. I want to talk about something else...

Batina the Hidden
I want to talk about a character that I really like from The 99. Her name is Batina The Hidden.

Batina The Hidden (from www.the99.org)
According to articles about The 99, Batina has the power to become invisible. In perfect concordance with her superpower, Batina wears a burqa. Why I love this character is twofold.

Firstly, and I write this without endorsing the extremist Taliban in Afghanistan so please do not jump to conclusions, Batina subverts expectations of what it means to be veiled. Being veiled becomes a metaphor for being invisible. The advantages one draws from invisibility, that is, a power long coveted by superhero fans, is now married to being veiled. Could it be then, that there are advantages to being veiled? Isn't invisibility all about seeing without being seen? A fanciful thought. If only to shift the way one conceives any veil.

The other reason I have been fascinated by Batina is that I only read about her this year. And when I did, it made me realise why I so liked one of the female characters in my novel. She is in fact, the character that I prefer. She is headstrong, inquisitive, intelligent and very independent. And when I created her, I insured, perhaps to add to her mystery, that she would also wear a burqa. Over the years, while I wrote my novel, I was amused to find that my character's remarkable ability to intimidate others and her quiet strength in a world dominated by men (especially in the 15th century!) derived precisely from the fact that she was veiled.

Stars Without Their Make Up

2009-12-22T14:18:00.002+10:00

The thrill and gloating at "Stars Without their Make Up" encapsulates everything about insecure, envious people who, trapped in the mundanity of their artless, souless and miserable existence, can only feel satisfied with themselves, once others are dragged down to earth and soiled in the ground.

It is a wonder that such people, being as concerned as they are with "fakeness" can not see their true motivations and deal with them.

Cancer

2009-12-14T16:41:00.004+10:00

I've been working on coloring Cancer lately while I complete the last chapters of my novel.

This picture still needs a lot of work so I'll post the astrological description later once I have uploaded the latest drawing.

I drew this picture at 17. Just looking at it a week ago, when I began coloring it in, I thought I had escaped yet another phallic symbol in the imagery.

But I was wrong. That coiled vine says it all.

Les Divas du Dancing - Translation

2009-12-14T14:21:00.006+10:00

Love love this song.

I was a BIG fan of the slower (and arguably sexier), 80s original by Philippe Cataldo but this sultry dance version by Kate Ryan is great too.

Les Divas du Dancing - Lyrics by Philippe Cataldo

Danse
Va tanguer sur le parquet ciré
Les violons ça fait rêver
Les yeux dans les yeux fais les tourner
et fais-toi désirer
Toi qui connais si bien le cœur des femmes
Tous les mots qui les enflamment
Elles qui le temps d'un tango se damnent
Frémissantes et parfumées
Toi, tu sais où les trouver

Dance
Go careening on the waxed parquet flooring
The violins, they make us dream
Eyes meeting eyes, make them spin
And make yourself desired
You who know so well the heart of women
All the words that enflame them
They who in the moment of a tango are damned
Shivering and perfumed
You, you know where to find them

{Refrain:}
Les divas du dancing
Les divas du dancing
Les cinglées du mambo
Celles qu'on ne verra jamais dans les discos
Les fanas du saxo
Les fêlées du paso
Celles qui pensent encore au temps du Mikado
Les divas du dancing
Les divas du dancing

Chorus:
The dancing divas
The dancing divas
The mambo crazed
The women one would never see in the discos
The saxo fans (short for saxophone)
Those mad about paso
Those who still think about the age of the Mikado
The dancing divas
The dancing divas

Danse,
Entends-tu leur désir murmurer
Le bando ça fait rêver
Fais les mourir le temps d'un baiser
Sans l'ombre d'un palmier
Toi qui fais brûler la chair des femmes
Sans jamais donner ton âme
A celles qui sous ton regard se pâment
Frémissantes et parfumées
Toi tu sais où les trouver

Dance,
Can you hear their desire murmuring
The bando makes one dream
Make them die in the moment of a kiss,
Without the shade of a palm tree
You, who can make the flesh of women burn
Without ever giving up your soul
To those who beneath your gaze, swoon
Shivering and perfumed
You, you know where to find them

Les divas du dancing
Les divas du dancing
Corps sérés cœurs glacés
Elles gardent de toi un peu de gomina
Sur le bout de leurs doigts
Quand elles ont caressé
Cette nuque bleue qu'elles aiment embrasser
Les divas du dancing
Les divas du dancing

The dancing divas
The dancing divas
Bodies close, hearts frozen
They'd keep from you a little gomina (hair gel)
At the tip of their fingers
Once they have caressed
This blue nape that they so love to kiss
The dancing divas
The dancing divas

Sans jamais donner ton âme
Sans jamais verser de larmes

Without ever giving your soul
Without ever shedding tears

I preferred hearing Philippe's version of this song because he seemed to sing it to another man.
And my interpretation of the song was that he was reproachful of this other man. The original is not a light hearted song, it has a sexy quality but it is ironic with a touch of fatalism. While he recognised and raved about the other man's exploits, he was also expressing his bitterness and reminding the man that he had no heart. So I took it as meaning that he must have been familiar enough with the man to understand his behaviours and his cold, unfeeling approach to relationships. Overall then, I saw this song as a jaded gay man's expression of jealousy as he watched his ex-lover dance with women.

I'm sure there are many interpretations but that was mine. Complex? Yes.

Islamic Homosexualities

2009-12-09T23:41:00.009+10:00

If you've read past the title, congratulations on your open mind.

I love this book:

It is a collection of chapters that delve into historical and modern homosexual practice in the Islamic world. It focuses on culture rather than religion. What does this mean? It means that while it performs an analysis of homosexuality in the Islamic countries, its reader is encouraged to conceptualise Islamic homosexuality in the context of cultural practices that either existed or currently exist rather than in the context of practices that are or are not endorsed by the Islamic religion.

It is important not to make prejudiced assumptions.
The authors do not aim to critique Islam in any way regarding its stance (pro or against) towards homosexuality.
Nor do they set about proving that some hadith endorses homosexuality.
That is NOT the aim of the book.

Its chapters essentially "challenge the dominant, Eurocentric model of gay/lesbian history and the implicit, occasionally explicit, assertion in many social constructionist accounts that nothing at all preceded modern homosexuality or that whatever homosexual behaviour occurred earlier was too disorganized, spontaneous, and insignificant to compare with modern homosexuality."

Essentially the book is in opposition of "Western exceptionalism - the practice of viewing the history of western Europe as representing the culmination of all human progress".

Incidentally, my [incomplete] novel takes the same stance against Eurocentrism. But it goes further and endorses, quite explicitly, an Eastern centric viewpoint. This viewpoint is aimed as an experiment that explores different models for conceptualising history. It is not aimed at converting readers to this Eastern model but rather, it offers a challenging perspective for all readers regardless of their background.

But going back to Murray, who is one of the authors of this book...He states that some scholars believe that the cultural conception of homosexual types was non-existant before the late 19th century when medical discourse created one in Northern Europe. Murray sees this belief "as northern European and American will not to know that anyone else anywhere else ever noticed recurrent homosexual desire." Again, this belief is founded in Western exceptionalism.

So that is the book. Very interesting, by the way. Not for the faint hearted.

Homosexuality - Dialogue and Change

I came across a few topics in this book which reminded me of some of the intergroup behaviours identified by social psychologists.

Firstly, some background. It is a popular belief that the Western [non-Islamic] world, which sees itself as 'progressive' and 'highly tolerant' argues that Islam is 'backward' in its stance towards homosexuality. Albeit, only in 1895, literary figure, Oscar Wilde, was thrown in jail for indecent [homosexual] behaviour. He was given a very harsh 2 year prison sentence (walking on the treadmill all day long is linked to heart attacks for those not used to the effort and Oscar was not) which broke his spirit, rendered him penniless and eventually led to his demise.

But for argument's sake, let us say that the Western world is indeed 'progressive'. Just for argument's sake.

To adopt a Western centric viewpoint, the Western world would represent the ingroup. The outgroup, in our Western centric scenario, is the Islamic world.

Conversely, in a Muslim centric model, the ingroup is the Islamic world and the outgroup is the Western world. This is the model I want to use.

As history would have it, much of this Islamic ingroup suffered indignance at the hands of a colonial Western outgroup. But I won't go into it. Just hold that in mind.

Now in their book, Murray and Roscoe indicate that "in countries where Islam is the dominant religion, equal rights for gays and lesbians are unlikely to be achieved by means of secular arguments that do not pay respect to the sacred sources of Islamic culture".
They then quote Khalid Duran who points out that "such an approach is likely to result in a backlash against what is perceived as an attempt to impose the values of the former colonial powers."

What this means is that if ever Islamic countries were to be persuaded to adopt so called 'progressive', 'tolerant' views towards homosexualities, the means of persuasion should NOT be through Western discourse.

Why?
Because in intergroup relations, persuasion of an ingroup is best achieved when ideas or critique originate from an ingroup member (e.g. a Muslim), rather than an outgroup member (a non Muslim). Any outgroup suggestions for change are interpreted negatively by the ingroup and are seen as arising out of outgroup self-interest rather than for the interest of the ingroup. This tendency to interpret outgroup criticism negatively increases, the more strongly an ingroup member identifies with their ingroup. In other words, for Islamic accommodation of homosexuality to ever occur, discourse must flow from within the Islamic community rather than from the Western world.

Now to compound the distrust that our ingroup (Islamic world) would feel towards the outgroup (Western world), remember the colonisation of the ingroup and its consequences. Remember, for example, France's harsh treatment of Algerians during its colonisation process. Now reflect on how an outgroup's intention can be further mistrusted as a result of the ingroup's experience with the outgroup.

Anyway, I'll drop the model for now. Enough said.

The sum of this is that the Western world is by far not the best group to disseminate homosexual discourse or to promote homosexual tolerance in the Islamic world. As intergroup relations would have it, this would only be interpreted negatively, especially by those who identify strongly with Islam's teachings.

Furious meddling is not an option!

(Oh, and by the way, I'm not Muslim and I wouldn't call myself fully Western. Now just where do I fit in? Hmmm....)

Turkish-German Cinema: Turkish Migrant Stereotypes in Two Fatih Akin Films

2009-12-07T19:35:00.012+10:00

This essay examines the ways Fatih Akin’s Im Juli (2000) and Auf der Anderen Seite (2007) (The Edge of Heaven) either challenge or reinforce stereotypes of Turkish males and females in Germany. Both films, through the characters Melek and Ayten, defy Turkish female stereotypes. Going further, Auf der Anderen Seite appreciates German-Turkish hybridity within the Turkish community while also recognising that certain stereotypes may be close to reality. Meanwhile, Im Juli’s Issa and Auf der Anderen Seite’s Ali are characters whose natures remain somewhat ambiguous at certain stages of their film’s narrative. This essay posits that this ambiguity is a voluntary act on the part of the director and serves to highlight the danger of stereotyping and of making judgments at face value. However, certain stereotypes are in fact reinforced by Auf der Anderen Seite. The film employs contrasts between Turkey and Germany to inflect negative attributes onto the Turkish community. Im Juli offers similar contrasts but this time, it is to suggest new clichés that favour Turkish males over German males.

Im Juli’s Melek defies stereotypical images of submissive Turkish females who like Yaman in 40m2 Deutschland (1986) live oppressed by the male patriarchy and secluded from the outside world. Melek, is depicted as a highly independent, mobile woman who while travelling in modern clothing, is at ease with roaming German streets by night. She accepts Daniel’s hospitality without fear of her virtue and the implication is that she is sexually free. Far from being a powerless female figure vis-a-vis Turkish males, Melek is the key to liberating her brother Issa from his police detainment. It is she who delivers her uncle’s birth certificate to the Turkish authorities proving Issa’s case. The narrative therefore represents Melek as an agent of change and as a strong figure on which her male sibling can count upon. However that is not to say that stereotypes of ‘the other’ do not inflect on Melek’s portrayal. Back in Germany, close ups on her moonlit face as she interprets a melodious tune in a foreign tongue evoke exoticism and mystery. Her song’s rapturous effect on the besotted Daniel recalls Western clichés relating to the sensuality and forbidden allure of Middle Eastern women (Valassopoulos 140).

Auf der Anderen Seite's Ayten is also depicted as liberated female. Far from being secluded and controlled, she is physically mobile in the outside world, vocal in her political opinions and aware of her rights. The kitchen scene where Ayten is strongly vocal of her political ideologies could, in Göktürk’s terms, serve as an example of how “modern cinema subordinates stereotypical representations of the migrant as downtrodden and speechless victim” (2002 203). Since Ayten’s sexual relationship with Charlotte comes at a time when lesbianism themes have long entered mainstream German cinema (Women German Yearbook 53), the subsequent relationship between a Turkish and German woman therefore evokes the normalisation of multi-cultural engagements. The intense closeness between the two females alludes to the possibility of bridging differences between Turkish and German culture and is a suggestion that perhaps cultural hybridity has itself entered mainstream.

The headstrong Ayten contradicts notions of submissive Turkish women
By choosing to evade the headscarf in both films, except at Yater’s funeral where several women’s head appear covered, Fatih Akin further opposes common expectations of Turkish females. For many Germans, the headscarf symbolises the “quintessential instantiation of Turkish patriarchal repression and objectification of women” (Mandel 305). In both films, none of Akin’s lead females wear a headscarf. However despite his liberal representations of Turkish females, Akin does not eschew the realities that some Turkish women may continue to experience. One Auf der Anderen Seite scene sees two disapproving, dogmatic Turks hassle Yater in the tram. Their insistence that Yater “Repent” confirms expectations of Turkish male patriarchy and religious dogmatism. They threaten to harm Yater if she does not leave her sinful job while also alluding to her lack of head cover. This passage implies that Yater is suffering the consequences of having provoked the established Turkish repressive patriarchy. Auf der Anderen Seite therefore concedes that cliches relating to women’s status are justified in at least some Turkish communities in Germany.

Auf der Anderen Seite uses a complex representation of Ali to both defy and reinforce certain stereotypes about Turkish males in Germany. While his well integrated son, Nejat, embodies cultural hybridity through his respectable professor status, his fluency in two languages and his ability to exist successfully both in Germany and Turkey, Ali remains culturally ambiguous until his demise. To begin, Ali’s initial attitude towards Yater contradicts patriarchal expectations of Turkish male figures. Aware of Yater’s profession, Ali does not scorn her like the other males she meets in the tram. Instead, he welcomes her home offering an arrangement for their mutual benefit.

Ali and Yater
During a dinner with his son, he forbids Yater to take care of kitchen duties, implying that he does not cast her in the dutiful role of household maid. However, following his medical diagnosis and illness, Ali becomes as tyrannical as other cinematic Turkish male cinema figures (Göktürk, 2000 251). He brutally orders a beer from Yater and complains about her cooking. His unfounded jealousy of Yater and his son, together with his drunkeness contribute to his reckless temper so that when Yater threatens to leave and attacks him, he retaliates with enough violence to cause her death. This unfortunately achieves Ali’s recasting as the violent, oppressive patriarch that had so far eluded audiences and unfortunately reinforces expectations of Turkish male figures in Germany.

Nevertheless Auf der Anderen Seite raises the question of whether Ali’s behaviour can be attributed to character and origin or rather, whether it should be viewed with compassion given his recent medical situation. On a wider level then, the film warns of approaching clichés with caution since we never know the exact details behind a person’s behaviour. A further example of Akin’s theme that appearances can be deceiving is in the representation of Issa. In Im Juli, Akin plays with audience expectations, only revealing the true nature of Issa’s character at the end of the narrative. Initially, Issa could be regarded as a dangerous, aggressive and rude Turkish male. His seemingly violent, careless nature is revealed as he runs over Daniel with his car and gesticulates madly behind the steering wheel. It may also be the director’s intention that when Issa’s car boot is opened and a corpse is revealed, that the audience would readily assume that Issa is a murderer. However as the narrative unfolds, we learn that Issa is not only family oriented and dutiful to his naturally deceased uncle but had reason enough to be anxious. Issa also cares enough for Daniel to help him escape a Turkish prison. By subverting audience expectations of Issa, Akin achieves a powerful social tool for persuading audiences to avoid stereotyping until more details about a person’s true nature are revealed.

One way Auf der Anderen Seite does endorse stereotypes of Turkish communities is by representing their place of origin, that is, Turkey, as a dangerous and lawless space compared to Germany. This representation is then projected onto the Turkish population serving to reinforce stereotypes of a backward, violent and politically unstable ‘other’. Firstly, the film offers a contrast between the exemplary hospitality extended to Ayten during her sojourn in Germany and the way Charlotte, on the other hand, is robbed and murdered in the streets of Istanbul.

The German Lotte helping her lover Ayten
In Istanbul, we watch Lotte’s purse get snatched by child thieves in a deserted street and follow her frantic course through unsafe passage ways and narrow alleys until she is murdered by one of her drug-influenced muggers. This passage, together with the political peril in which Lotte was enmeshed by retrieving Ayten’s gun at the onset, conveys the danger of the ‘other’ country. Istanbul is represented as unsafe for Germans, a reflection of its population which presumably remains backward and in need of reform. In certain ways, this reform arises at the benevolent initiative of Lotte’s mother who offers to pay for all of Ayten’s judicial fees and contributes to Ayten’s repentance and subsequent freedom. The narrative therefore upholds notions that the German population is more stable and righteous. It also resembles “hypocritical narratives of rescue, liberation and Westernisation” (Göktürk, 2002 66). Albeit Ayten is not liberated from the oppressive patriarchy but rather from her fanatical political involvement. Nevertheless, Lotte’s mother recalls Göktürk’s suggestion that “empathy with the victims of a violent ‘other’ culture primarily serves the purpose of self-confirmation” (2002 251).

'Saving' Ayten
To conclude on a more light hearted note, a different reading of Auf der Anderen Seite would imply that Lotte dies in Istanbul because she is not as street smart as Ayten. This reading would attribute courage, cunning and practicality to Turkish characters, creating perhaps another cliché. As this reading would have it, the wits of Turkish males and females are supposedly sharpened by their experience in a society that can be envisaged as either economically or socially disadvantaged compared to Germany. This same new cliché resurfaces in Im Juli. On the one hand, the Turk, Issa has a grand devious plan and the courage to carry a corpse in his car across the border. Meanwhile, the German, Daniel, is a well groomed intellectual and a low risk individual who would rather opt for the shortest, safest route to Istanbul. In terms of risk-taking and survival, the two men are represented as binary opposites with Issa being the more cunning of the two. When Issa invites Daniel out of his cell, the male Turk is again portrayed as more street smart than the German who is unaware that he could easily escape through the open door until advised.

Works Consulted:

Auf der Anderen Seite. Dir. Fatih Akin. Madman Entertainment, 2007.

40m2 Deutschland. Dir. Tevfik Baser. Studio Hamburg Filmproduktion, 1986.

Göktürk, Deniz. “Turkish Women on German Streets: Closure and Exposure in
Transnational Cinema”. Spaces in European Cinema. Ed. Myrto Konstantarakos. Bristol, UK: Intellect Books, 2000.

Göktürk, Deniz, “Beyond Paternalism: Turkish German Traffic in Cinema.” The German Cinema Book. Eds. Tim Bergfelder, Erica Carter and Deniz Göktürk. London: BFI, 2002.

Im Juli. Dir. Fatih Akin. Senator Film, 2000.

Mandel, Ruth. Cosmopolitan Anxieties: Turkish Challenges to Citizenship and Belonging in Germany. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2008.

Valassopoulos, Anastasia. Contemporary Arab Women Writers: Cultural Expression in Context. London, UK: Routledge, 2007.

Women in German Yearbook, Volume 18. Eds. Ruth-Ellen B. Joeres and Patricia Herminghouse. Lincoln, NE: University of Nebreska Press, 2003.

Drole de Felix and Western: Cultural Identity and Cultural Exchange in Two French Films

2009-11-23T06:47:00.003+10:00

This essay, which I wrote as part of a European Film course is special to me due to my Lebanese lineage and French nationality. I am familiar with what it means to be a beur as conceived in the film, Drôle de Félix.

Beur is a collective term meaning 'Arabe' in verlan (French slang where word letters are reversed). While not having lived in France long enough to grapple with the conflicting experience of being perceived as a beur by fellow French citizens, I can envision that my father and his siblings, had they lived in France and not Senegal during their adult years, would have been regarded as beur and treated as such. Knowing about my father's low socio-economic background and his primary school level of education, and given his so called beur background, it is dubious whether living in France during the 70s and 80s would have blessed him with the opportunities that he was able to make for himself in Senegal.

Living in Senegal, we were though, French citizens with the ability to live in France. But it makes sense why my parents chose to emigrate to Australia, rather than France. They had justification to believe that more opportunities would exist for their children in Australia than in France. I am grateful to them.

At the same time, I recognise that there is a dark cloud looming. Australia has never experienced the 'Arab' presence that France due to its colonial past and its post-colonial policies has known for decades. What Australia will be like then, in the future, I do not know. But it remains disturbing to realise that the racial tensions in Cronulla, back in 2008 and the stereotypical hostility of NSW police vis-a-vis Lebanese youths are so reminiscent of themes in the French film, La Haine.

Vinz, Said and Hubert, in La Haine
There is a term in social psychology relating to intergroup relations, called the superordinate group. It is an umbrella identification that allows separate (ethnic or religious) groups to each retain their own unique identity but at the same time, to also be unified under one common identity, the superordinate group. For example, a high school student may feel strongly about being in the debating team but will also identify under a common Grade 12 group (the superordinate). Similarly a man may identify with being a Chinese migrant while also being an Australian citizen (the superordinate).

According to social psychologists, an ideal social structure for limiting conflict is one that respects the uniqueness of disparate groups while also advocating for one common, superordinate group. This structure allows groups to differentiate themselves (a primary need of group and individual identity) while also giving all groups a common goal and identity at the level of the superordinate group. It is this common goal and common identity that needs to prevail when conflicts are imminent between say, Lebanese Australians and White Australians. It must be salient enough to immediately impact on individual attitudes and ultimately cascade into individual and group behaviour.

Government policies, law-enforcing agents, the media and the judicial are key institutions that may help define the superordinate or alternatively, may negatively influence the individual to abandon any commonality they share with the superordinate group and instead revert to their disparate group identity.

Unfortunately aside from 'drink' (with its associated mateship) and 'sport', I honestly can not think of what it means to be Australian. It is further unfortunate that 'drink' can often lead to inebriation and conflict while 'sport' encourages people to think in terms of separate international and national teams. I think that's where the Australian superordinate breaks down.

***************

Western (1997) and Drôle de Félix (2000) vary in their exploitation of the road movie genre and in the way their migrant or minority characters either assert or subdue their plural identities over the course of their journey. Both films feature the road movie theme of hospitality to advance notions relating to contemporary forms of migrant-host relations and the ideals of multiculturalism. In Western, hospitality is underlined by strict, yet unstated rules of exchange between guest and host. This essay focuses on the unusual hospitality exchange between the main characters, Nino and Paco. Meanwhile, Drôle de Félix employs hospitality themes to voice the unresolved national prejudice towards North African-French or beurs in France. Finally, both films use the strangers encountered along their characters’ journey to advocate a utopian ideal of non-biological family ties.

Western suggests that national identity is not just dependent on where one is from but is instead an all encompassing multicultural hybrid that transcends regional boundaries. To illustrate this message, Western’s narrative sees its characters proudly assert their complex identities. During a discussion with Jean-Baptiste, Nino introduces himself as a Russian immigrant of Italian origin, Paco indicates that he is a Spaniard of Catalan origin and Baptiste introduces himself as a Breton originating from the Ivory Coast. The three men jokingly keep count of strangers who betray more homogenous notions of identity, and certainly prejudice, by refusing to acknowledge a greeting or by asking one of the protagonists to “return to his country”. In this scene, Western essentially opposes traditional integrationist views of French identity. Western’s non-diegetic music supplements this discourse of plurality by becoming less matched to the character’s background over time. While an early scene pairs Andalusian music with scenes relating to the Spaniard, Paco, later scenes employ more hybrid music such as flamenco strings over shots of the Brittany countryside. The closing credits also follow this theme, with each crew member’s name appearing beside the flags of their home country and countries of origin in recognition of their complex identity. Together, the music and credits echo the film’s ideology by evincing an acceptance for plural identities.

Catalan Paco and Nino the Russian migrant of Italian origin
Western also exploits the road movie genre using the theme of hospitality to examine how migrants may belong to a host country but only on certain conditions. While it is true that Paco and Nino encounter various strangers who lay out their own hospitality rules, the focus of this essay is the hospitality that the two protagonists offer each other and the conditions they unconsciously impose on their respective invitation. Throughout Western, Paco and Nino effectively invite each other to stay with newly met acquaintances and each find their hospitality expectations violated. Nino invites Paco to a dinner with Guénalle and her sister with the expectation that perhaps the two men will find their attractions reciprocated and will enjoy a good time, or that Paco will not have a romantic advantage. As it turns out, only Paco invites the women’s attraction which ultimately enrages Nino during a wedding scene. Conversely, when Paco invites Nino to Nathalie’s place, he does so, never expecting that Nino will become Nathalie’s romantic interest and to a degree, his invitation hinges on this very condition. However when the rules of hospitality are transgressed such that Nathalie and Nino grow closer, Paco seethes and becomes aggressive towards Nino. At the national level, this form of hospitality could be defined as a metaphor for the host country whereby as explained by Rosello (9) the migrant is welcomed to France on the condition that he works cheaply or that the host country benefits in some way. This form of hospitality demands that if guests or migrants are to be accepted, they must serve a purpose and certainly not gain more success than their hosts.

Unlike the overtly stated hybrid identities in Western, Drôle de Félix’s narrative tends to underplay Félix’s beur background with the protagonist appearing to identify mostly with being Norman. To begin, Félix seems at home in a world that contrasts sharply with the poverty, crowding, low- income and poor education that typifies the beur’s banlieu (Rosello 5). The well groomed Félix is seen enjoying a seafood dinner in an expensive French restaurant with his Gallic partner. Interior shots of their apartment provide a glimpse of Western contemporary portraits hanging on the wall. Félix’s level of education is also apparent when he points out the oddity of featuring Aristotle on a cathedral. Finally, Félix’s addiction to soap operas hints to an affinity with French popular culture through television. Félix not only appears as a fully integrated Northern French, he seems matter-of-fact with his marginal identities of homosexual and HIV positive individual. To illustrate what Pratt refers to as “incidental” homosexuality and HIV-status (89), Félix is shown routinely sorting pills and casually discussing new HIV drugs in a clinic to highlight the mundane aspect of his illness. In addition, nude scenes with his partner and his “cousin”, together with a visit to a gay bar with his “brother”, indicate that Félix is at peace with his homosexual identity. By contrast, the only hint that Félix may partly identify with his beur background is the non-diegetic Maghrebi music which sometimes accompanies his road journey and his opposition to the extreme-right Front National party.

Despite what seems an understated beur identity, Félix remains conscious of how he is often negatively perceived as beur by others. The racist crime in Rouen and Félix’s subsequent hesitation at the police station recalls a softer version of La Haine (1995). That is, both films allude to multi- ethnic tensions and what Hayward and Vincendeau (321) refer to as French police intolerance vis-a-vis Arab youths. In La Haine, one of the characters indicates that “an Arab does not survive for more than an hour in a police station”. This intertextuality may explain the fear and shame that overwhelm Félix as he witnesses a beur youth in handcuffs and decides to avoid the French police. Through his fear, Félix is suddenly confronted with his undesirable beur identity as seen by others, including the prejudiced bar owner. Drôle de Félix suffers from what O’ Shaughnessy calls “a refusal of a narrative of origin” (151) because Félix avoids dealing with his beur identity.

Following his encounter with the crime scene, Félix’s journey to supposedly find his father is put into question. In fact, it can be envisaged as a subterfuge to both run away from Rouen but also to run away from himself and a beur identity which he finds difficult to endorse in view of the shame it arouses. Félix’s quest is first put into question when Mathilde refuses to believe that he is looking for his father. Mathilde remarks that he is using the road trip as an excuse. Later, after a car collusion, where Félix is insulted, he pre- empts further insults by asking the other driver, “Why don’t you call me a dirty Arab while you’re at it?” This outburst hints to his mental preoccupation and self-consciousness.

What invites consternation is that Félix is so comfortable with his homosexuality or his dramatic illness and never overtly grieves at being unemployed but all the while feels so much shame from his ethnic background due to social and racial prejudice. The film never resolves Félix’s shame. This lack of resolution serves as a metaphor for how, in France, unfavourable notions of beurs and their often unjustified link to crime continue unabated whereas homosexuality, HIV and unemployment are to some degree treated with more supportive social structures (Pratt 89).

In terms of family belonging, both Western and Drôle de Félix suggest that shared biological background does not dictate a person’s sense of belonging. On a national level, this parallels Western’s focus on multiculturalism as a utopian ideal. In a mirroring shot of Félix and his “grandmother” having breakfast, Mathilde is presented as similar to Félix in her television habits and drug ingestion routine. They are also both alone, her as an elderly disenchanted by her relatives and him to the degree that he is an orphan. The two are harmoniously engaged even though they differ in age and ethnic background. Along his road journey, Félix effectively meets with his “brother”, “cousin”, “grandmother”, “sister” and “father”.

Mathilde and Félix - soulmates
Drôle de Félix's structure therefore alludes to the question of non-biological family ties with Félix slowly beginning to understand that biological bonds are not necessary for a sense of belonging and happiness. One of the turning points for Félix’s family concept is when one of Isabelle’s sons tries to convince him of the legitimacy of his many stepfathers. Meanwhile, the “father”, a disatisfied family man, chooses to fish to get away from his family yet has a wonderful time flying a kite with Félix. This highlights the notion that people can in fact be miserable in their own biological family. Félix’s journey eventually curbs his need for a biological father so that he ends up venturing to Corsica with his partner. Western hints to similar family ideals through Nathalie’s passion for having children from different fathers and ethnic backgrounds. Nathalie’s joyful altruism regarding her multi-ethnic family contrasts with France’s unfulfilled pledge (Rosello 3) to be a truly altruistic host sheltering migrants from many different countries. At the national level then, both films advocate for multicultural communities where origin and blood relations make little difference as to whether people can co-exist happily or not.

Works Consulted:

Drôle de Félix. Dir. Olivier Ducastel and Jacques Martineau, Pyramide Productions, 2000.

Hayward, Susan and Vincendeau, Ginette. French Film: Texts and Contexts. London, UK: Routledge, 2000.

La Haine. Dir. Mathieu Kassovitz. Optimum Home Entertainment, 1995.

O’Shaughnessy, Martin. The New Face of Political Cinema: Commitment in French Film Since 1995. New York: Berghahn Books, 2007.

Pratt, Murray. “Félix and the Light-Hearted Gay Road Movie: Genre, Families, Fathers and the Decolonization of the Homosexual Self.” Australian Journal of French Studies, 41.3 (2004): 88-101.

Rosello, Mireille. “Introduction: Immigration and Hospitality.” Postcolonial Hospitality: The Immigrant as Guest. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2001. 1-22.

Western. Dir. Manuel Poirier. Lionsgate, 1997.

Islamisation

2009-11-16T00:34:00.008+10:00

Aghia Sofia, Istanbul

I saw Roland Emmerich's 2012 during the weekend and enjoyed it. Yet, while I laughed at some of the light humour in the dialogue, I couldn't help feeling nauseated thinking about what could follow if we believed our existence were ever threatened. The quijotic drive to protect those closest to us, the scrambling for the ever dwindling earth's resources, the desperate goal to survive at any cost - even at the cost of million others, could drive people to all sorts of cruel, selfish acts. Oh sure, there is still solidarity. I'm sure that humane virtue will be present too if the end was near. I hope so anyway.

But that's not the point of this blog post.

Found in Croatian website, Javno, (and which I rate R for mature, non-prejudiced, educated audiences)

http://www.javno.tv/en/index.php?id=20972w96aa5b7

This is an interesting, though sickening, propaganda video addressed to the conservative, non-Muslim Western population. It is loaded with statistical figures relating to:
- the dwindling and ever low birth rates in traditionally non-Muslim countries such as Germany, France, UK, The Netherlands and Canada.
- the comparatively high birth rates of Muslim immigrants in the respective non-Muslim states
- the estimated timeframes by which the Muslim population in non-Muslim states will surpass the current majority non-Muslim population
- the 'alarming' rise of Islam in the world

Certainly the figures are correct. And indeed, Islam is the fastest growing religion in the world.

So perhaps yes, in 50 years or so, the world will be highly Islamicised.

The commentator has made it his duty to inform his audience, that is, the current non-Muslim majority, that it will soon be outnumbered. And that its capacity to preserve its culture is threatened. And that it must take action!!

Action!!!

Like what? Another genocide, Nazi style?

Because without being either for or against any religion, I do not see myself reproducing urgently to avert the nefarious cultural change that the commentator assures us is threatening to 'suddenly' take place as a result of the growing Muslim population.

Whoever made the video is ranting about the importance of preserving culture but they forget one of the most important aspect of culture: gradual, systematic and mutual cultural exchange.

Mosque in Istanbul
The world will indeed be different in countless ways in 10, 20, 50 years. By the time Islamisation does take place, if only in terms of population advantage rather than in terms of any real religious and political conspiracy attributed to Muslims, I may not even feel it. I might be slightly more worried about pollution, traffic, poverty, the exorbitant price of energy sources and housing shortages. Right now for example, and this may sound petty, I am worried about the excessive violence that arises from binge drinking in Australia and which leads to such hideous aggressions as glassing. Incidentally, a welcome 'cultural exchange' should Islamisation occur, could be, given traditional Muslim attitudes towards alcohol, that Australians end up curbing their binge drinking so that some of them behave less like animals and more like human beings. To be continued. Either way, alcohol fueled violence is one aspect of this binge drinking 'culture' that I hope will be well left behind.

Let's be honest, the propaganda video, behind all the factual bullshit, is essentially saying:
- Islam is BAD, Christianity ROCKS
- If Europe becomes more Islamicised, non-Muslims will become a minority
- Being a minority sucks for obvious economic reasons and we must make sure we remain in power

This video manifests a classic group behaviour which social psychologists describe as attributing negative intentions to an outgroup where none exist. According to this video (and countless anti-Islamisation groups on Facebook), Muslims who come from different countries, different levels of education, different cultures are somehow grouped into a homogenised outgroup lump and attributed negative, world supremist, fundamentalist qualities as a whole.
What logic exists behind these gross generalisations, I do not know.

Of the growing Muslim population in future generations, there may be a very small percentage who may be intent on "imposing Sharia" or "force veiling women". Yet this video asserts that the entire Muslim community as a whole will be mobilised to effect those changes. What a load of bullshit.

This video is pretending to care about culture while all along relying on understated stereotypical negative notions of Islam to stir fear in its viewers.
Oh, so boring.

Door to the Mezquita, Cordoba
There was a time in history when Muslims did rule most of Spain. It lasted 700 years. And that wasn't bad at all. In fact it was a golden age. Spain's culture has been enriched a thousand fold resulting from this period. For example the architectural splendour inherited from the Andalusian caliphates are, today, inseparable from Spain's cultural richness.

And by the way I don't think banning glass in bars and clubs is the solution to reducing violence.

Authenticism in Almodóvar's Todo Sobre Mi Madre

2009-11-13T01:55:00.001+10:00

What does it mean to be real? To be genuine? This essay describes how Todo Sobre Mi Madre’s characters, as actors or actresses, either on stage or in real life, contribute to a discourse on authenticity. It focuses on the binary opposition between acting and being real, or between contrasting environments, and posits that Todo Sobre Mi Madre often deconstructs these oppositions to arrive at Almodóvar’s meaning on true authenticity. Todo Sobre Mi Madre (1999) constructs a pluralistic discourse on authenticity which is grounded not only in Almodóvar’s life experience but also on his recurrent ideologies on sexual fluidity and identity.

Beyond Stereotypes
Todo Sobre Mi Madre argues that authenticity rests on a person’s diversity and on what Fouz-Hernández and Expósito term “avoidance of stereotypes” (160). For example, it highlights the binary oppositions inherent in Rosa’s character to present an argument about her authenticity. Rosa is a beautiful young woman who as stereotypes would have it, could easily thrive in a worldly existence. Instead, much like a Jesus figure, she engages in social work, caring for marginal individuals like transvestite prostitutes. As exemplified by her selfless devotion to others, Rosa is a diligent nun with a heart of gold. But she nevertheless secretly breaks her vows by engaging in illicit sexual exchanges until she eventually falls pregnant to no other than transvestite, Lola. To multiply contradictions, Rosa is also a martyr figure who, after courageously carrying her pregnancy full term even despite an atmosphere of maternal disapproval, dies tragically, leaving behind what in Franco’s days would be called a sinful, HIV ridden body. Rosa is therefore painted as a fluid character. Her multiple facets run contrary to expectations. For example, her naivety vis-a-vis Lola remains perplexing given her regular exposure to transgender prostitutes and therefore to the worldlier side of life.

Penelope Cruz as Rosa
What is to make of such complexity in a single individual if only that it informs the viewer of the multi-dimensional nature of authenticity? As the narrative would have it, Rosa is also the love child who, following her death, is fondly mourned by all. This elevates Rosa to saintly status on the grounds that she transcended both morality and sexuality. According to Almodóvar then, Rosa’s authenticity results from the diversity of her character and the deconstruction of dichotomies whether these imply naivety/worldliness, innocence/depth or even beauty/disease and finally, the ubiquitous saint/whore. On broader terms, this non-stereotypical authenticity mirrors El Deseo’s production values “to push the boundaries of genre” (Triana-Toribio 158).

Acting Out Inner Desires
Todo Sobre Mi Madre suggests that often, playing a role, far from alienating an individual from who they really are, can ultimately liberate them, drawing them to a closer understanding of their own desires or their true nature. As evidenced by close ups of Manuela watching A Street Car Named Desire, the aggrieved mother is deeply moved with Stella’s character. Manuela’s obsession with Stella is attributed to the parallels she recognises between the stage character and her own experience with Esteban’s father. Manuela’s performance as Stella therefore becomes only natural and it attracts positive feedback precisely because it is heartfelt. Performances are portrayed as tools for catharsis rather than for imposture.

During one stage scene, we watch the new Stella cry intensely from labor pains. The narrative’s focus on that moment of Manuela’s performance can be read as a suggestion that her pain on stage echoes her real life grief and her longing desire to give birth again to her son. In other words, it infers that her performance has become a vehicle for her unexpressed desire to regain her lost son. This is further evidenced by Manuela’s later eagerness to adopt the new little Esteban and take him with her to Madrid. Overall, Todo Sobre Mi Madre's performances can be read as therapeutic means of tapping into one’s true nature and desires. In what Garlinger cautiously refers to as “an identification with women on the part of a gay director” (Garlinger 120), this existence by proxy may well be familiar to Almodóvar. The director has often focused on women who are over represented in his films (D’Lugo, 29, 63). Just as Manuela identifies with Stella and vocalises through Stella, Todo Sobre Mi Madre's director may find personal expression and authenticity through the women in his films.

Resembling Your Dream of Yourself
According to Almodóvar, being true to your own self, having self-integrity is the key to true authenticity. On the surface, Agrado and Lola’s transgender behaviours could be read as shallow. That is, they both recall the stereotypical drag queens that assume their new sexuality through excess, show and appearance. This reading would agree with Spanish film scholars who have often attacked Almodóvar for what they saw in his films as “shallow character development” (D’Lugo 9). But as claimed by Agrado: “A woman is authentic only in so far as she resembles her dream of herself. Todo Sobre Mi Madre indicates that what makes a person real is not their body but their sentiment (Garlinger 123), what is inside of them. Agrado’s stage performance is a camp discourse but far from being a shallow parody of gay culture, it is a strong affirmation of the authenticity of gay sentiments and the authenticity of being gay.

The refreshing and honest Agrado
Agrado is saying that she has physically transformed herself not because she is essentially a fake but because what is inside of her longed to find form and expression. In his discourse on authenticity, Almodóvar also “draws attention to the construction of the body” (Fouz-Hernández & Expósito 159). By highlighting her highly engineered body, Agrado not only alludes to her own construction but also to the construction of all women. All women, not only the men who desire to be them, are more or less subject to highly demanding aesthetic rules. The efforts required to attain feminine ideals render women no less fabricated than the men who desire the female form. By equating her efforts to those of other women, Agrado becomes as authentic as any of them.

Todo Sobre Mi Madre's narrative also indicates that true authenticity is not achieved by merely projecting a cohesive self to others. Rosa’s mum is an example of a person who wishes to project an idea of herself to others and who in fact falls short of this image. As a morally self-righteous, cynical individual, Rosa’s mum scorns her daughter’s sexual affair and refuses to have anything to do with prostitutes or other marginal individuals. For example, she will not suffer a transvestite holding her grandchild, let alone endorse the reality that such a marginal figure is actually the child’s father.

Lola, Rosa and Manuela's common lover
Yet, for all her claims of propriety as mother and grandmother, Rosa’s mum is a deceitful individual. She is an artist who forges work and passes them as real. What makes her inauthentic is her inability to openly acknowledge her own fabrications: Rosa’s mum truly believes that she is a morally upright individual. Yet another way in which the narrative questions her authenticity is in her desire to hide that her grandson is HIV positive. This dissimulation of truth for safeguarding one’s reputation as a proper citizen of the world contrasts sharply with Agrado’s shameless revelation of her own construction. It renders Rosa’s mum inauthentic.

On Nationalism...
In terms of nationalism, the film suggests that authenticity within a person’s background is not lessened by the fluidity of their homes and their migration across different worlds. To illustrate this, Todo Sobre Mi Madre highlights several migrations across opposing worlds. There is Manuela, a downtrodden mother fleeing underground Barcelona to raise a child and establish a respected, professional status in Madrid. There is Manuela’s return to underground Barcelona to find her husband following Esteban’s death. It is followed by another journey to Madrid to raise a substitute son away from his prejudiced grandmother. These migrations illustrate the relative importance of each place in shaping Manuela’s character. Madrid sees Manuela evolve into a self-sufficient career women and mother but Barcelona is the setting where she finds joy and solidarity among friends. The underground world, both on and off the stage, also plays an important part in her personal development including her reconciliation with her husband. Madrid and Barcelona while representing opposite realms nevertheless both contribute to Manuela’s identity. The film’s argument is that people do not just originate from a single place or environment, nor can they claim a single socio economic background that will mark them for life but rather, people can in fact be shaped and evolve in largely disparate worlds each contributing to their character and their authenticity.

This argument on authentic identity across disparate worlds reflects Almodóvar’s journeys both in life and in cinema. Like Manuela, the director emerged from humble beginnings in a Manchegan village which saw him migrate to Caceres in La Mancha and then onto Madrid where he taught himself film making (D’Lugo 15). All these places have inflected upon the director’s way of seeing things and representing them on screen. For example, he claims “My sister had a fashion design shop in Extramadura, and that world stayed with me” (D’Lugo 5). Almodóvar’s migration as director is equally evoked. Where once the stringent moral laws of the 70s made Barcelona’s underground film festivals the few places where Almodóvar could screen his short films (D’ Lugo 15), today the director has arisen “from a marginal figure within a marginal film culture to international prominence” (D’Lugo 4).

Works Consulted:

Todo Sobre Mi Madre. Dir. Pedro Almodóvar, El Deseo S.A., 1999.

D’Lugo, Marvin. Pedro Almodóvar. Springfield, Ill: University of Illinois Press, 2006.

Fouz-Hernández, Santiago and Expósito, Alfredo Martínez. Live Flesh: The Male Body in Contemporary Spanish Cinema. London, UK:I.B. Tauris, 2007.

Garlinger, Patrick Paul. All About Agrado, or the Sincerity of Camp in Almodóvar’s Todo Sobre Mi Madre. Journal of Spanish Cultural Studies, 5.1(2004): 117-134.

Triana-Tiribio, Nuria. Journeys of El Deseo Between the Nation and the Transnational in Spanish Cinema. Studies in Hispanic Cinema, 4.3(2007): 151-163.

I wrote this essay as part of a European Film course.

Facebook - Your Meddling Relationship Advisor

2009-11-04T18:06:00.006+10:00

I previously mentioned the lack of diplomacy that Facebook showed in dealing with its Unfriending feature. But this is a little more serious.

Check this. Now Facebook has taken to telling me what to do with my friends. Yes, Mr Facebook here, thinks it knows what's best for me and my relationships.

Recently while viewing my Live Feed I accidentally glanced on the far right only to see a couple of Suggestions, each featuring a photo of one of my friends.
One of them said, "You haven't spoken in a while."
Mark that...
And just below that profound observation was the magic social healing suggestion: "Poke Her!"

???

Poke Her. As if that would solve anything. What an insight. I've poked people in my time so believe me, the Lack of Poking has never been a sign of social ineptness on my part! But now, to be bullied by a PHP application into Poking my friends, no, that's going a little too far.

Another friendly advice told me that I should Suggest some new friends to one of my friends. Facebook was concerned that: "She only has 17 friends".
Obviously Facebook thinks that 17 Friends is something to be ashamed of. Facebook wants everyone to be a social climber and value quantity over quality. Facebook, you should be ashamed of yourself!

Please do not become paranoid about this mysterious Facebook ability to meddle in your private affairs. You have to understand that by joining Facebook and therefore storing your private business in its servers, you take as much a risk as you do joining GMail or any other online service...But be reassured that no human is actively stalking you and monitoring your activities on the Evil-Facebook-Control panel while munching on popcorn.

Well except if you call an auditing programming algorithm a stalker...I've come from an IT background and that algorithm is not difficult to implement, it's just a matter of programmatically auditing particular Wall to Wall interactions between two users during a particular time and introducing rules that alert the Facebook user when those interaction rates are too low. So Facebook evidently has the knowledge to surmise who I interact with most and who I have neglected for a while.

But should it care? And is it really Facebook's business? And while meddling into my private affairs, should it really try to shove it's own narcissistic and superficial social values in my face?
Hell no.

I am not really outraged, only amused.

Because it could be worse.
I could be glancing to the far right and seeing the well meaning suggestion:
"Don't forget to reply to Tania and tell her about your new crush at work."
Now that would be amusing to me but it would drive most non-IT people up the wall. (Get it, the Wall? oh, well I thought it was funny.)

Because like Google Mail which uses content intelligence to display relevant advertisements while you view your emails, I gather that Facebook also has the capability to gather insight about the gist of your Messages...and whether you've replied to them or not!

Anyway I wanted to post this because I think it is very rude to meddle.

Picnic at Hanging Rock - Reviewing the Critiques and the Cult

2009-11-02T16:31:00.017+10:00

This essay examines the cultural and critical reception of Peter Weir’s Picnic at Hanging Rock (1975) over the last thirty years. The first part of the analysis draws upon O’Regan’s formations of value (111) together with the cultural and film making policies of the 1970s and 1980s to illustrate how these concerns have informed critical perceptions of Picnic at Hanging Rock. The second part examines new ways of seeing this film. By evaluating a number of critical and cultural sources, this essay explains how Picnic at Hanging Rock is now elevated to cult status in a way that mythologises Australian national identity. Finally, it highlights Picnic at Hanging Rock's uniqueness as an example of Lotman’s “fifth stage” (quoted in O’Regan 222) in cultural transfer.

In terms of O’Regan’s formations of value, there is a trend in 1970s critical reception of Picnic at Hanging Rock to reconfigure Australian film as a credible cinema and emerging artistic elite. This follows from a government driven desire to compete with dominant Hollywood mainstream by either devaluing US productions in terms of their popularity and lack of prestige or moving away from classical US narratives (O’Regan 115). A fine example of this formation of value is provided in McGuiness’ review of Picnic at Hanging Rock. Here, the emphasis is on aesthetics and cinematic sensitivity as a testament to the film’s quality (188). By comparing Weir to Swedish director Bo Widerberg, McGuinness implies that Australian film is capable of reaching European standards. This valorisation positions European cinema as an artistic and prestigious benchmark to aspire to. Meanwhile, it downplays the rival Hollywood cinema. Through repeated focus on the mysterious aspects of the film, McGuinness also highlights the elusive quality of the narrative which is a further departure from US cinematic values. By stressing Picnic at Hanging Rock's favourable reception in national audiences, (189) he evokes the discernment and taste that must evidently exist in Australian audiences and so too, within Australian culture.

Picnic as art and quality
By contrast, Tudor’s formation of value defines Picnic at Hanging Rock in much the same way as a Hollywood film. His formation of value distinguishes the film as a dominant mainstream production within the national cinema. His review criticises Weir’s heavy use of symbols and imagery at the cost of the narrative (212). He scorns the film for an over reliance on style which takes away from any presumed quality. The narrative’s open-endedness and the film’s aimless focus on the unresolved investigation are seen as deliberate. According to Tudor, the director seeks to mystify audiences for commercial value. In his view, the film’s success indicates that the filmmaker must have pandered to national audiences (212). The result is that Picnic at Hanging Rock is envisaged as a box office hit, sustained by a tenuous narrative and laden with bemusing art direction. Tudor expresses a value system that divides Australian national cinema into two types of films whose respective natures emulate either the Hollywood mainstream or the national cinema. In his view, Picnic at Hanging Rock employs “an overly close association with commercial values and the market.” (O’Regan 127)

Miranda, elusive and bemusive
Ian Hunter’s 1970 critical analysis is informed by a yet another formation of value. Hunter’s review is further underpinned by an ideological malaise and a refusal to see the film’s relevance with national reality. His antagonism reflects a national desire to define an Australian identity independent from British influence. Hunter reads Picnic at Hanging Rock as tying Australia to Victorian, class-based and religious ideologies whereby only the palest, most beautiful corseted females like Miranda, can gain entry into another world and where the “worship of beauty and nature in this scheme of things has its roots in the love of suffering and death” (Hunter 192). According to Hunter, perceiving the beauty of Hanging Rock equates to a love of death by sacrifice which is painfully akin to concepts of religious suffering and rigid Victorian discipline. Hunter also qualifies Picnic at Hanging Rock as pro-British and having “nothing to do with this country” (191). His formation of value effectively devalues national cinema because of its “regressive and conservative values” (O’Regan 131).

Picnic as 'conservative' and 'pro-British'
In the 1980s, the desire to qualify national cinema as consisting of worthy and recognisable ‘types’ of films that could directly compete with Hollywood genre films, led several critics to retrospectively ascribe a generic interpretation to Picnic at Hanging Rock. Even today the redefinition of Australian films in terms of their generic conventions is seen as advantageous (Moran & Vieth 2) and improves insight into the richness of Australian cinema. For example, McFarlane interprets Picnic at Hanging Rock as falling into the Horror genre. He associates the beauty of Hanging Rock with the “lurking horror” (62) of the girl’s unexplained disappearance. His conception of landscape as beautiful yet treacherous echoes Gibson’s argument (48) that Australian films have used mise-en-scene to give meaning to the landscape and that this meaning is usually tainted by European fear towards the indomitable Australian land.

The ominous Hanging Rock
A recent analysis of cinematic representations of missing children also lends a horror quality to Picnic at Hanging Rock if only to explain the film as a psychological apparatus that allowed Australians to replay and mourn the unsettling reality of their children’s disappearance in the bush (Wilson 8). Wilson states that films which explore these disturbing issues often “angelise” (10) their missing subjects. Similarly, Miranda is compared to a Boticelli angel by her teacher, Dianne de Poitiers. The film’s lack of resolution is a “mode of respect” (Wilson 4) when dealing with a difficult subject as emotionally horrifying as the death of innocents who have gone missing.

The last fifteen years, has seen more documentary film making and audience interest for docudramas that merge fact with fiction. It follows that Picnic at Hanging Rock has been culturally received as a mystery rather than as a period film (Ebert np). Underlying this cultural reception is a desire for audiences to become more involved in the text and to engage with a speculated truth. The late 1990s, saw a rising cultural focus on the possible true event behind the story. The film was increasingly envisaged as a fictionalised dramatisation of some fateful real event. No longer limiting itself to the open ended narrative which offers no solution regarding the college girls’ disappearance, the new mystery of Picnic at Hanging Rock now resides in resolving whether or not its narrative is derived from fact. This is illustrated by the paraphernalia accompanying the film’s 2001 limited edition DVD. Production notes accompanying the DVD, highlighted a possible hidden truth behind the story. During shooting, producer Patricia Lovell is said to have reported “We are having trouble with time here. All our watches seem to be playing up. Mine stopped at 6.00 p.m” (“Picnic at Hanging Rock”). This lends credence to the uncanny magnetic effect that the Hanging Rock site has on the character’s watches or sense of time and suggests a factual background to the story.

With Picnic at Hanging Rock alluding to mystery, national identity was mythologised to its own advantage. The film’s limited edition DVD package was launched by none other than the film’s elusive Miranda, actress Anne Lambert. In a well scripted interview programmed by ABC Television (Murphy np), Anne Lambert alludes to Joan Lindsay’s strange behaviour during shooting, whereby the author proceeded to hug Anne and call her “Miranda”. There is no doubt that recent trends in cultural reception of Picnic at Hanging Rock welcome speculation as to whether Miranda existed and that the author may have known her. This reception serves a cultural purpose because it gives rise to a mystical Australianness replete with literature secrets and natural mysteries. Through this paradigm, it no longer matters that modern Australian circumstance remains elusive and continues to evade cinematic capture since that is after all, the very nature of the mysterious.

Miranda
While Picnic at Hanging Rock's enigma titillated national audiences, the film became seen as a cult film both locally and internationally (Denis np; Le Vern 1). This is due in some part to the mythologising of the Australian landscape. The Hanging Rock location became associated with eerie happenings arousing both curiosity and wonder while inciting tourist visits (Murphy np). One French movie reviewer goes as far as claiming “it is no coincidence that the disappearance takes place on an aboriginal site: this only amplifies the magic of the events; with those who disappear becoming virgins who are sacrificed to ancient gods ¹” (Le Vern 3). These terms enhance Picnic at Hanging Rock as an exotic “Other” to be consumed by those eager to discover the legends and secrets of a remote land.

But it is not only through myth that the film has gained world repute. The international success of director Peter Weir means that Picnic at Hanging Rock is often written about as part of an auteur’s trilogy of work along with The Cars that Ate Paris and The Last Wave. Rayner qualifies Weir’s work as evincing “a stylistic unity in which European and American concepts of auteurism emerge” (12). Weir has earned his mark of auteurship and his films, including Picnic at Hanging Rock are internationally recognised as works of art (Rayner 12).

If there is an Australian film that alludes to Australian cinema as a “disseminator of culture” (quoted in O’Regan 222), it would be Picnic at Hanging Rock. The film has been recognised as a possible inspiration or a model that can inspire Hollywood film. Several film reviews (Le Vern 1; Ebert np; “Death and the Maidens” np) dealing with Sofia Coppola’s The Virgin Suicides (1999) favourably allude to Picnic at Hanging Rock either as Coppola’s inspiration or as an audience point of reference. Both films are seen as dealing with a group of young girls' reaction to a repressive institution and their eventual death. Le Vern states that “those who have appreciated the melancholy of Sofia Coppola’s sugary requiem must imperatively discover its ancestor of 25 years” ².

Melancholy in Virgin Suicides
Accordingly, The Virgin Suicides becomes an imitative cinema based on an Australian film. Australian cinema is elevated as an originator of ideas and a forerunner of aesthetic value from which a Hollywood film can be modelled. This is a reversal of Lotman’s fourth stage because it is the Australian film, Picnic at Hanging Rock that becomes a model to be copied and extended elsewhere (O’Regan 221). After thirty years, Picnic at Hanging Rock has evolved from a second stage film concerned with looking into the past (O’Regan 19) to be recognised as an original source of world culture, or fifth stage cinema.

Footnotes:

¹Ce n'est pas hasardeux si la disparition a lieu sur un site aborigène: cela ne fait qu'amplifier la magie des évènements; les disparues devenant des vierges que l'on sacrifie aux anciens dieux.

²Ceux qui ont apprécié la mélancolie du requiem doucereux de Sofia Coppola doivent impérativement découvrir son ancêtre de vingt-cinq ans.

Works Consulted:

“Death and the Maidens”. BFI – Sight and Sound. April 2000. 28 August 2008
http://www.bfi.org.uk/sightandsound/feature/26/

Denis, Emmanuel. “Pique-Nique a Hanging Rock”. DeVilDead: Le Cinéma Fantastique en DVD. Undated. 4 September 2008 http://www.devildead.com/indexfilm.php3?FilmID=858

Ebert, Roger. “Picnic at Hanging Rock”. Rogerebert.com. 2 August 1998. 2 Sep 2008
http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/19980802/REVIEWS08/401010325/1023

Ebert, Roger. “The Virgin Suicides”. Rogerebert.com. 5 May 2000. 28 August 2008
http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20000505/REVIEWS/5050305/1023

Gibson, Ross. “Camera Natura: Landscape in Australian Feature Film.” Framework 22.3 (1983): 47-51.

Hunter, Ian. “Corsetway to Heaven: Looking Back to Hanging Rock: 1976”. An Australian Film Reader. Eds. Albert Moran and Tom O’Regan. Paddington, NSW: Currency Press, 1985. 190-93.

Le Vern, Romain. “Le Coin du Cinéphile: Pique-Nique a Hanging Rock”. DVDrama. Undated. 4 September 2008 http://www.dvdrama.com/news-27907-le-coin-du-cinephile-pique-nique-a-hanging-rock.php

McFarlane, Brian. “Horror and Suspense”. The New Australian Cinema. Ed. Murray, Scott. West Melbourne, VIC: Nelson, 1980.

McGuinness, P. P. “Peter Weir’s Hauntingly Beautiful Film Makes the Film World Sit Up:1975”. An Australian Film Reader. Eds. Albert Moran and Tom O’Regan. Paddington, NSW: Currency Press, 1985. 188-89.

Moran, Albert and Vieth, Errol. Film in Australia: An Introduction. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2006.

Murphy, Justin. “No Picnic at Hanging Rock”. ABC Television. 8 August 2004. 28 August, 2008 http://www.abc.net.au/tv/rewind/txt/s1168554.htm (transcript)

O’Regan, Tom. Australian National Cinema. London and New York: Routledge, 1996.

Picnic at Hanging Rock. Dir. Peter Weir. Picnic Productions, 1975.

“Picnic at Hanging Rock”. Picnic at Hanging Rock Limited Edition. Undated. 2 Sep 2008. http://www.picnicathangingrock.info/weir/weir.html#prodnotes

Rayner, Jonathan. The Films of Peter Weir. London and New York: Cassell, 1998.

Rayner, Jonathan. Contemporary Australian Cinema. Manchester and New York: Manchester University Press, 2000.

The Virgin Suicides. Dir. Sofia Coppola. Paramount Home Videos, 1999.

Tudor, Andrew. “The Aussic Picture Show”. An Australian Film Reader. Eds Albert Moran and Tom O’Regan. Paddington, 1985. 211-14.

Wilson, Emma. Cinema’s Missing Children. London and New York: Wallflower Press, 2003.

I wrote this research article in 2008 as part of an Australian Cinema course.

Mr and Mrs Smith - Spectacle vs Aristotelian Action

2009-11-02T16:24:00.011+10:00

In this essay, I will examine Mr & Mrs Smith as an essentially anti-Aristotelian action film. I will argue that it favours spectacle at the expense of dramatic, Aristotelian action by highlighting its lack of concern for a morally challenging, ethically inspired, character-driven resolution (Leitch 112-113). I will illustrate how this anti-Aristotelian film engages its audiences primarily through spectacles of a sexual nature until it is forced to adopt staged violence to sustain further interest. Finally, drawing from the essential masculinity of female action figures (Leitch 117), I will explore the way Mrs Smith’s positioning in relation to Mr Smith successfully lends credence to her potency as action figure while her combined male-gendered and female-gendered traits create an element of surprise which contributes to the film’s spectacle.

The action in Mr & Mrs Smith is anti-Aristotelian because its characters are not concerned with making decisive actions that would morally distinguish them and which would shift events in the direction of a resolution. In Mr & Mrs Smith, disagreement is a prelude to physical violence rather than debate and as such, the film is “invested in the staging of conflict as spectacle rather than in its resolution” (Leitch 112). The ethical question posed quite early in the narrative is whether a husband or wife, each a professional assassin, would kill their spouse if hired to do so. This is a morally confronting question for two married individuals, one which, coupled with years of mutual secrets should lead to much painful decision making on behalf of each party or at least several heated discussions that would make for engaging dialogue. However as Leitch asserts, today’s action films have little to gain from presenting dialogue to their viewers (112). Instead, the issue of marital miscommunication is hushed to make way for exhibitions of the couple’s expertise as assassins and showcase their highly trained, skilled bodies. Thus follows a series of episodic, fast-paced, physically charged scenes where husband and wife flaunt their perfect bodies and attempt to outrun and outsmart each other.

Mr & Mrs Smith evidently sees spectacle as more important than resolution. The scenes immediately preceding and following the revelation of the couple’s double identity are executed through rapid editing, with repeated attention to stunts, technological know-how and verbal sparring. Apart from a scene where Mrs Smith angrily reviews her wedding video, there is no evidence of deep psychological introspection in either character and as such, their Aristotelian agency towards maturation and transformation is limited. The couple occasionally exchange bitter words which reveals their competitiveness and introduces a comic element but which nevertheless evinces a lack of depth or negotiation given the circumstances. Stunts seem to equate the bodily mastery over space as action, in an attempt to testify again and again for the Smith’s credibility as action figures (Leitch 115).

"Look what I can do!"
For example, Mrs Smith fearlessly escapes from her high tower by gliding across the city on a pulley, a feat which would be remarkable if it did not already recall her descent from the top of a hotel. The film also repeatedly showcases technology not only as “extensions of the body” (118) but also as testament to the film makers’ up-to-date-ness. This technological parade includes heat tracking binoculars, an array of monitors running complex applications, Mr Smith’s impressive guns and even some strategic product placement as Mrs Smith operates a Kodak camera.

In terms of spectacle, Mr & Mrs Smith is also underlined by an exciting, sadomasochistic economy with Mrs Smith being the dangerous, “unconventionally active and aggressive” woman and Mr Smith “as submissive and wanting” (Aaron 80). The suspenseful sexual tension combines with a destructive spectacle and rises to a peak as husband and wife physically trash each other and their house, reaching levels of excitement that eventually and violently consummate them, affording audiences with a pleasurable release. In what seems like a moral dilemma, Mr Smith challenges Mrs Smith to shoot him and for a second, her face distorts under the pain of the decision. But in fact, once the couple is reconciled, their decision not to kill each other, far from having arisen from some real transformation, is assumed to have resulted from the renewed spark in their sexual life. As if it were not enough, the indirect allusion to the actors’ off-screen relationship imbues this make-out scene with added voyeuristic pleasure. It is this sexually tinted spectacle that unravels at the expense of Aristotelian action.

"This is what we get up to offscreen, as well!"
Mr & Mrs Smith remains anti-Aristotelian by concerning itself with the kinaesthetic performances and explosive spectacles that it provides, rather than with its “dramatic unity of action” (Leitch 105). If this were unified Aristotelian action, the Smiths would have combined forces and advanced against their common enemy since the start of the film. Instead, the couple is pitted against each other for a good part of the film. The happy revival of the Smith libido would presage the film’s conclusion were it not for the late introduction of the couple’s common enemy. Having staged yet another reason for more spectacle, where it is the duty of the couple to battle against a third party and protect each other and their marriage, the film does not hesitate to feature Mr and Mrs Smith in further mind blowing, explosive battle scenes. In light of the film’s narrative, the final battle scene in the store seems redundant. Yet it is the most explosive, the loudest and the most destructive on a large scale.

Oh no, the audience wants the set destroyed..what shall we do next?
Rather than succeeding by becoming more masculine, as Leitch would have it (117), Mrs Smith emerges as a potent adversary through her positioning in relation to the male action figure, Mr Smith. In addition, she provides an element surprise that not only disconcerts her male opponent but also challenges viewers’ expectations. Like many of her female hero counterparts, notably Alias and Charlies Angel, Mrs Smith retains her sexually alluring appearance (Coon 2). Mrs Smith’s surprise element resides in the implausibility of her characteristics. On appearance, she remains an icon of glamorous femininity: full, sensual lips; feminine curves; impossibly toned, thin limbs and glorious long hair. But as her dominatrix outfit semiotically suggests early on in the film, Mrs Smith is a powerful female. We have evidence that she is more technically proficient than her husband. When fighting him, she can deliver the punches equally well as take them. We also learn that unlike him, she has no qualms about using physical violence to extract information from a spy hence indicating that she is more aggressive in male-gendered terms. At work, she isn’t far from a bully. The high tower, all-female staff headquarters over which she rules, contrasts sharply with the flat structure in her husband’s rundown office. Far from showing mercy to her own sex, Mrs Smith derogatorily demands a cup of coffee as though to prove she can be more tyrannical than a man when dealing with women. Mr Smith is portrayed as more sentimental than his wife, more eager to make up, and a victim of her ruthless ways. He is seen as suffering from his wife’s cunning, especially when she takes away his backyard artillery stash. In terms of male-gendered personality and mental traits, the text elevates Mrs Smith vis-a-vis her husband. Her relative positioning justifies her credibility as a female locus of action. Yet Mrs Smith’s panoply of seductress remains intact as this is essential for audience pleasure and surprise.

The result is that the text paints Mrs Smith as an unlikely embodiment of seemingly incompatibly gendered features to surprise the viewer at least in the first half of the film. The unravelling of Mrs Smith’s hidden strengths is central to the spectacle. Mr Smith’s uncertainty concerning whether his wife would actually kill him and his foolish demeanour whenever she outsmarts him, contribute to the comical undertones of this spectacle as much as they evoke surprise about Mrs Smith.

This anti-Aristotelian film narrows action to spectacles of the body, technology and sexual intensity. It is prepared to stage violence at opportune moments even when the narrative has run its course. Mr and Mrs Smith are never morally or ethically engaged with their dilemma and fail to demonstrate agency in seeing through their marital problems. Aspects of their characters are only used to emphasise spectacle, with Mrs Smith, in particular, being positioned favourably as a feminine locus of action.

Works Consulted:

Aaron, Michele. Spectatorship: the Power of Looking On. London: Wallflower Press, 2007.

Coon, David Roger. “Two Steps Forward, One Step Back: the Selling of Charlie’s Angels and Alias.” Journal of Popular Film and Television 33.1 (2005): 2-11.

King, Geoff. “Spectacle, Narrative, and the Spectacular Hollywood Blockbuster”. Movie Blockbusters. Ed. Julian Stringer. London & New York: Routledge, 2003. 114-126.

Leitch, Thomas. “Aristotle vs. the Action Film”. New Hollywood Violence. Ed. Steven Jay Schneider. Manchester: University Press, 2004. 103-125.

Mr & Mrs Smith. Dir. Doug Liman. 20th Century Fox Film Corporation, 2005.

I wrote this critical article in 2007 as part of an Advanced Film Studies course. And by the way, I love a good spectacle.

The End

2009-10-29T20:21:00.003+10:00

Another one of my favourite songs from Emilie Jolie aside from La Chanson du Herisson. It is originally interpreted by Henri Salvador.

Chanson Finale ("Final Song" with my translation)

C'est un peu la fin de notre histoire
Mais surtout ne sors pas ton mouchoir
Dors petite fille dans ton grand lit
Nom Jolie et prénom Emilie
Dors, petite amie dans ton grand lit
Puisqu'il faut bien vivre sa vie

It's slighty the end of our story
But whatever you do, do not pull out your handkerchief
Sleep little girl in your big bed
Surname Jolie and Name, Emilie
Sleep little friend in your big bed
Since one must live one's life.

Nous on reviendra si tu le veux
On est là pour rendre les gens heureux
Même si on existe pas vraiment
Tu peux compter sur nous tout le temps
Dors petite amie dans ton grand lit
Puisqu'il faut bien vivre sa vie...

As for us, we will return if you want it
We are here to make people happy
Even if we do not really exist
You can count on us all the time
Sleep little friend in your big bed
Since one must live one's life...

Faites que le rêve dévore votre vie,
Afin que la vie ne décore pas votre rêve...

Let your dream consume your life,
Such that life may not consume your dream...

New York: The Novel by Edward Rutherfurd

2009-10-26T15:07:00.004+10:00

New York: The Novel, published by Random House

It will be out on 10 November, 2009.

I loved Rutherfurd's Russka and London. Both Edward Rutherfurd and James Michener rank as my top historical novelists. I look up to them and their work has inspired me greatly.

I love being swept away into the dramatic story of family generations, through their passions, conflicts, loves, struggles, genius and indirect relationships with historical figures. I enjoy reading about people's lives while witnessing their city's or country's development as if I were present at that time. It is a wonderful way to time travel and an entertaining way to learn about history.

Rutherfurd, educated in Cambridge and Stanford, is a master at weaving well researched historical fact with enthralling fiction. I just can't wait to get my hands on New York: The Novel. Only two weeks to go!

My top wish for Christmas.

Einstein and the Meaning of Success

2009-10-18T21:32:00.004+10:00

One should guard against preaching to young people success in the customary form as the main aim in life. The most important motive for work in school and in life is pleasure in work, pleasure in its result, and the knowledge of the value of the result to the community. - Albert Einstein

Good old Einstein. Well, he said it.

What is this perfectly ambiguous term we call success anyway? Success in different societies means so many different things. Having many children in some African and Middle Eastern cultures is a form of success. Having a high paying job, a large house and being able to travel regularly for leisure is a symbol of success in most Western societies. Smaller circles also have their own measures. Featuring as a lead in a high grossing film is the first sign of success in Hollywood. Getting a promotion is a sign of success in most organisations.

This idea of success is a pain in the ass. So often I think, it forces us to give away our lives and spend effort on things that we believe are prized by other people, in an attempt to impress them or even just to confirm to ourselves that our life has been well spent. These things we eventually acquire or give ourselves cancers and heart attacks acquiring may have nothing to do with what we truly want. But they are worth pursuing either because advertisers tell us that they are worthwhile, or because our family tell us nothing else will do or because we feel guilt in relation to those self-imposed goals that elude us, or shame in relation to other people, if we do not pursue these aims.

I've had plenty of success.
Well, that depends on what you mean by success.
I've had wealth. I've owned property. I've had boundless travel experiences. I've had a degree of power and responsibility in a well paid job. I've had a stable and happy marriage.
So I suppose in Western terms, I've had plenty of that thing called success.

But I'm learning. Slowly. I think success for me is moments. Moments when I feel free and my own person. Moments when I love or feel loved. Moments when I complete a gym workout and feel fucking awesome about myself. Moments when I find self-expression in an idiotic Facebook status or rave about my obscure ideas in an equally obscure blog called Les Nuits Masquées. Moments when I know I'm going to publish my novel, a creation of my very own that no one else could have written and that has been born of my own mind and no one else's. Moments when I enjoy tasting and experiencing new food. Success for me is being able to tell someone to piss off when they are obviously out of line rather than being servile to them and compromising my own integrity. Success is making my own choices.

I want to call this thing, "contentment", not success.

Contentment for me is those moments when I wake up and recognise that the commonly known concept called success is an elusive, virtual reality. It's a commodity created to wade through existence and obtain some measure of self-satisfaction for our progress in this lifespan. It's true. We fabricate our own reality about what success means because we are doomed to the anxiety of existentialism. We need to fill our lives with some meaning. We need a benchmark without which we fall apart anguished by this overwhelming meaninglessness. Without which we believe we would feel useless. Who wants to 'just live'? No, that would be too frightening. Life must have a purpose. And the only way we know we have reached that purpose is to create a measure, the measure of success.

But life is not about success. It's about enjoyment. And Einstein was right.

Enjoy nature. Enjoy learning. Enjoy creating. Enjoy art. Enjoy helping others. Enjoy dancing. Enjoy sex. Enjoy food, love and healthy competition.

Success comes in those moments.

All About Eve

2009-10-06T18:00:00.010+10:00

This post is not really about Bette Davis nor her film. I just finished an essay on Almodovar's Todo Sobre Mi Madre and there are still a few camp textual references lingering in my mind. But if you read the post carefully, you may discover why it's all about Eve...

So where was I?

It was my 34th birthday last Friday. On that night, Shane took me to Eves on the River. It was the first time I had been there for dinner and I absolutely loved it. Our table overlooked the gorgeous Teneriffe river walk, the company was delightful as always, and to top it all off, I celebrated by getting drunk on cake. Yay me! Yes, be warned, a mass intake of glucose on a previously empty stomach will often drive Laura to inebriation. Here are a couple of souvenirs from our enchanting evening.

Eves on the River's Braised Beef Cheek

Due to an Aioli addiction, I opted for Fries and Aioli. I also had the Braised Beef Cheek with cauliflower & field mushroom Gratin. I'm a sucker for melt-in-your-mouth tender meats and was not disappointed with my delectable choice. The mushroom was soooo cute! It was as tight and thin as a nori sheet and lay compressed underneath the little bed of cauliflower. Oh, the novelty.

Shane chose the Lamb Shoulder Pie and pommes mousseline & pea puree. Everything was delicious.

Ok, so it's not quite Yatala Pies but still!

After dinner, two lovely waitresses paraded a huge chocolate cake topped with burning sparkles all the way to our table. They sang happy birthday for me and I beamed like a little girl. That sort of surprise has never happened to me before and I must admit that I found it very enjoyable!

Spoilt Brat

La Petite Fille du Troisieme by Christophe

2009-09-26T22:38:00.009+10:00

French singer, Christophe

Ah, Christophe, how I adore your dark side.

The song, "La Petite Fille du Troisieme" (The Little Girl from the Third Floor), is one of my favourites by French singer, Christophe. One could write a script, and yes, make a film from its lyrics.

There's a cold, chaotic effect brought upon by the redundant repetition of certain words in an almost clinical, orderly manner. Since the lyrics are in first person, the main character emerges as a meticulous observer with an almost cynical focus on other people's behavior. There's a scrutiny over details that most people overlook and it hints to the character's attitude and mental preoccupations. So then, it should come as no surprise if that I tell you that this song paints the story of a psychopath, a man who describes his future victims and who evinces a guiltless detachment from his crimes by engaging in culture and refinement, that is, by listening to ballet all day.
The plaintive, romantic quality of Christophe's voice only adds to the character's eeriness.

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Christophe - La petite fille du 3 (1971) sélectionné dans Musique et Clips

La Petite Fille du Troisieme (The Little Girl from the Third Floor)

La petite fille du troisième a toujours
Oui elle a toujours, a toujours, a toujours, a toujours des problèmes
Quand je la vois le matin
Quand elle va prendre son train, oui son train, oui son train
Je prendrais bien sa p'tite main
Je vois tout, j'entends tout, mais je ne dis jamais rien (x2)

The little girl from the 3rd floor, always has
Yes, she always has, always has, always has, always has problems
When I see her in the morning
When she goes to catch her train, yes her train, yes her train
I would [gladly] take her little hand

I see everything, I hear everything
But I never say anything.
I see everything, I hear everything
But I never say anything.

La vieille dame du cinquième, elle se prend
Oui elle se prend, elle se prend (x2) pour une cartomancienne
Elle a dit au monsieur, au monsieur du huitième, du huitième (x2)
Qu'il allait mourir demain
Je vois tout, j'entends tout, mais je ne dis jamais rien (x2)

The old lady from the fifth floor, She takes herself
Yes, she takes herself, she takes herself, she takes herself for a fortune teller
She told the gentleman, the gentleman from the eighth floor, the eighth floor, the eighth floor
That he would die tomorrow

I see everything, I hear everything
But I never say anything.
I see everything, I hear everything
But I never say anything.

J'habite au rez-d'chaussée et je joue du ballet, du ballet, du ballet
A longueur de journée
Quand on vient me questionner sur la dame du cinquième
Sur la fille du troisième, je réponds sans hésiter :
Je vois tout, j'entends tout, mais je ne dis jamais rien
Je vois tout, j'entends tout, mais je ne dis jamais rien
Je vois tout, j'entends tout, je vois tout, tout, mais je ne dis jamais rien
J'écoute tout, je vois tout, j'entends tout, tout, mais je ne dis jamais rien
J'entends tout, tout tout tout, je vois tout, tout, mais je ne dis jamais rien, rien.

I live on the Ground floor
And I play ballet, ballet, ballet
All day long
When they come to question me about the lady from the fifth floor,
About the girl from the third floor, I reply without hesitation:
I see everything, I hear everything
But I never say anything.
I see everything, I hear everything
But I never say anything. (Repeat ad nauseum)

Where I've Been

2009-09-13T14:02:00.014+10:00

What I enjoy most about travelling is the 360 degree visual overload which I scramble to capture with those absurd digital contraptions that tourists so often carry along with them. Other aspects I love include cultural immersion which so often involves tasting glorious, yummy food, the history of different places, the wonderous architectures and the beautiful natural scenery. Travel, for me, is systematic invited change. Surprises. It's about the joy of discovering a life that I am not familiar with and that I can learn from and grow from, it's about experiencing different things, living other paradigms and appreciating human difference. I aspire to be in a perpetual state of wonder where I take nothing of the world for granted and where my senses are overwhelmed every single minute. I also travel to have fun and to explore the past.

This is a list of places I've travelled to or lived in. It's nowhere as extensive as some of my friends' lists including Ginny, Cathy and Jacqueline whose broad travel experiences I greatly admire. Overall it makes me happy to see what I've done so far.
I hope to see much more of the world in the future and return to a few places that I enjoyed. I'll update this list regularly in the years to come.

Africa

Senegal
Dakar
Kaolack
Popinguine

Pacific

Australia
Bondi
Brisbane
Broadbeach
Bronte
Burleigh Heads
Caloundra
Canberra
Coogee
Coolum Beach
Fraser Island
Hamilton Island
Hervey Bay
Maleny
Maroochydore
Melbourne
Mooloolaba
Palm Beach
Surfers Paradise
Sydney
Whitsunday Island

New Zealand

Auckland
Dunedin
Fox Glacier
Motueka
Mt Cook Village
Nelson
Paihia
Picton
Queenstown
Wanaka

Society Island (Fr)

Moorea

Asia

China
Badaling (Great Wall)
Baisha
Beijing
Kunming
Lijiang
Hong Kong
Macau

Indonesia
Jakarata

Japan

Himeji
Kyoto
Nara
Tokyo

Malaysia
Kuala Lumpur

Singapore

Turkey
Istanbul

Europe

Austria
Vienna

Czech Republic

Prague

France

Aix-en-Provence
Ajaccio
Annecy
Avignon
Belfort
Bonifacio
Brest
Carcassonne
Carnac
Colmar
Dijon
Dinan
Etretat
Gordes
Honfleur
Lyon
Marseille
Mont-St-Michel
Montsegur
Nantes
Nimes
Paris
Perpignan
Quiberon
Rouen
Roussillon
Saint-Malo
Sartene
Vannes
Vanves
Versailles

Germany
Freiberg
Heidelberg
Schwartzwald (Black Forest)

Greece
Athens
Adamas, Milos
Apollonia, Milos
Cape Sounion
Fira, Santorini
Imerovigli, Santorini
Mykonos Chora, Mykonos
Oia, Santorini
Paros
Perivolos, Santorini
Plaka, Milos
Provatas, Milos
Psarou Beach, Mykonos
Vlyhada Beach, Santorini

Italy
Corniglia
Florence
Manarola
Milan
Monterosso al Mare
Riomaggiore
Rome
San Gimignano
Sardinia
Siena
Vernazza
Volterra

Slovakia
Bratislava

Spain

Barcelona
Cadaques
Cordoba
Figueres
Girona
Granada
Madrid
Ronda
Seville
Toledo

Switzerland

Geneva
Grindelwald
Interlaken
Jungrau
Lucerne

UK
Cambridge
London
Norwich
Peterborough

America

Canada
Banff
Calgary
Jasper
Vancouver
Lake Louise

USA
Los Angeles

Lie Detection Anyone?

2009-09-06T13:54:00.004+10:00

This is a short essay that I wrote as part of a final psychophysiology exam.
The question asked for the pros and cons of using psychophysiology for lie detection in relation to an article on psychophysiological modelling. It was only worth 5% and I got full marks for it.
This is one of my passions. I'm fascinated by Event Related Potentials (ERPs), Electroencephalography (EEG) for the measure of mirror neuron activity, Electromyography (EMG) in the measure of attitudes and in general, I have an interest in any physiological response to psychological events.
I'd love to be able to complete my Honours year in the field of social neuroscience but I'm worried about being away from the workplace for too long. Hopefully in the future...

This essay uses arguments set forward by Cacioppo, Tassinary and Berntson (2007) in relation to psychophysiological relationship to outline the pros and cons of the use of psychophysiological measures in lie detection. In psychophysiology, a polygraph is often used to measure the increase in arousal resulting from lying and eliciting changes in heart rate, blood volume, skin conductance and respiration.

Cacioppo et al. (2007) argue that simply knowing that manipulating a particular element in the psychological domain leads to a particular psychophysiological response does not enable one to infer anything about the former based on observations of the latter. If we look at this in the context of the Guilt Knowledge Test, a subject’s response to a question relating to the crime when the subject is guilty would represent the psychological domain. Meanwhile, any significant rise in the suspect’s skin conductance would represent the psychophysiological response. What Cacioppo et al. argue is that it is not possible to assume with complete certainty that other psychological reasons might not have led to the observed physiological response. In lie detection, the skin conductance changes assumed to characterise the suspect’s increased arousal when they recognise information only a guilty person would be expected to know, may be a psychophysiological outcome resulting from other psychological states. This is one disadvantage of using psychophysiological measures for lie detection. Notably, there is a many to one relationship characterising lie detection. It implies that responses measured by the polygraph could arise from any other psychological state rather than the assumed guilt state. It has been found that some people can manipulate their own breathing, press their toes on the floor or bite their tongue, thus affecting polygraph measures. For example, Honts, Hodes and Raskin (1985) tested the accuracy of the Control Question Test (CQT) and found that guilty persons in a mock-crime experiment could produce enhanced responses to control questions and therefore be classified as innocent.

Using psychophysiological measures for lie detection can be advantageous if the relationship between the suspect’s state and their psychophysiological response can be defined as one-to-one. In this form of relationship described by Cacioppo et al. (2007), only one physiological response predicts a psychological event within a given context. The psychophysiological response becomes known as a marker and its presence is so strictly associated with a particular condition that its presence is more accurately indicative of the presence of this condition. In other words, presence of this marker in lie detection increases the accuracy of the decision about whether or not the suspect is guilty. The measure of event related potentials (ERPs) for lie detection may be the closest thing to this form of relationship. One of these event related potentials, the P300, only occurs where a subject is presented with deviant or interesting information. In the lie detection paradigm, this late P300 ERP can manifest if the subject is presented with information that only a guilty person would recognise. According to Cacioppo et al.’s terms, the presence of the P300 can be construed as a strict marker for suspect recognition of crime related stimuli. In this context, the presence of a P300 in a suspect’s EEG recording can indicate that the stimulus presented was relevant to the guilty person. Conversely, absence of the P300 can indicate that the same stimulus presented was irrelevant to the therefore innocent person. A study by Farwell and Donchin (1991) which measured the P300 response in a fictional spy scenario found that there were no false positives or false negatives and that wherever a decision could be made based on the P300, it was accurate. In a second experiment, target stimuli related to a given person’s offence produced large P300s while stimuli not related to the offence produced only a very small or no P300 at all. Overall, the determinations of this second experiment were 100% correct. It can be concluded that use of ERP measures offers promising results in the accuracy of lie detection making psychophysiological measures advantageous as tools for lie detection.

Another disadvantage of using psychophysiological measures in lie detection is that often, a psychophysiological relationship may be established with a particular measure when in fact this relation is not concomitant. As explained by Cacioppo et al. (2007), a psychophysiological concomitant is where there exists a many-to-one relationship such that a psychophysiological measure correlates with a known psychological state. However, it can be argued that changes in skin conductance thought to manifest when a person is lying may in fact turn out to be non concomitant. Cacioppo et al. indicate that manipulation of the same psychological element in a situation may alter or eliminate the covariation between the psychological and physiological elements because the latter is evoked not only by variations in the psychological element but also by variations in one or more additional factors. In a lie detection scenario, this would be the equivalent of skin conductance changes arising from an additional factor such as fear or anxiety such that the psychological state (guilt/innocence) may be overridden by this additional factor. So where a suspect is feeling anxious about being found guilty when they are in fact innocent, other factors may be at play in evoking the psychophysiological response and this may render the measured response non concomitant.

References
Psychophysiological science: interdisciplinary approaches to classic questions about the mind.(2007). In J. T Cacioppo, L.G. Tassinary & G.G. Berntson (Eds.), Handbook of psychophysiology, 3rd Edition. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press.

Emilie Jolie: Le Hérisson - English Translation

2009-09-01T16:15:00.006+10:00

From the age of three to four, I had a turntable with a red plastic case that I'd use to play records all day long. One of my earliest memories is a Philippe Chatel's children musical called "Emilie Jolie" that I'd listen to continuously until I knew the words by heart. I was not gifted with blonde locks and I did not have blue eyes like the lovely Emilie but as with many little French girls, I identified with her.

Emilie is basically this little girl who can't sleep at night because she finds herself all alone while her parents are out and she is terrified of the dark. I could readily identify with that. No sooner were the lights out that I had to fight the horrible products of an overactive imagination.

The narration is in third person with the narrator also directly interacting with Emilie as she flips through this book merging with each page's content into a magical universe. It's similar to Mary Poppins where the children enter into the park after leaping into one of the chalk drawings but in this case, Emilie is both inside the book and outside it, since she can still flip the pages. For each page, she meets fantastic characters each with a story and a personal song.

The first turning point of the story is the meeting with a witch.

"Il y a une sorciere dans cette histoire?" (Is there a witch in this story?) asks Emilie.
"Dans tous les comtes, il y a une sorciere et un prince charmant." (In every tale, there is a witch and a Prince charming) assures the narrator.

The witch's song is one of the highlights of the story. It is sung in the original musical by famous French singer, Françoise Hardy. She laments that she's been cruel and wicked, that being a witch has been to her detriment and she wishes someone could love her so that she could cease being a witch. Interesting psychology going on here and I can tell you that Emilie Jolie is a musical filled with double meanings so that adults along with children can both enjoy it. It's probably as deep as The Little Prince and when it ends, Philippe Chatel's last words have haunted me up to this day:

" Faites que le rêve dévore votre vie, Afin que la vie ne dévore pas votre rêve . "

basically,
Let your dream consume your life.
Such that life may not consume your dream...

It is a beautiful ending because it reminds the main character, Emilie along with every other child, to grow up honouring their dreams and their imagination. As a child, I did not understand the quote very well but as an adult today, I can see how easy it is to forget one's dreams and to let life, adult life with its adult concerns, its materialistic outlook and other "matters of consequence" take precedence over joyful fantasies. I'm determined not to let it.

Personally, I believe you can expect that level of depth from most French children's tales.

After the meeting with the witch there follows a quest to find a Prince Charming who will magically turn the witch into a kind, loving princess. Emilie Jolie must flip each page of her book and encounter one character after another asking each if they have at all seen Prince Charming. Of course none of them have but we are treated to their song nevertheless and learn a little bit about each one of them. Each character's song is well written and most are enjoyable.

My personal favourite as a child and also today, is "La Chanson du hérisson " (The Porcupine's song). Who has not met a porcupine? A depressed person who sees life through a negative lens and who only wants proof that they are worthy of love. It is easy to be rebuffed (prickled?) by their negativity and it often requires courage to overcome their rejecting ways and give them the proof they ache for. This is the lesson that this song teaches.

La Chanson du Hérisson - Lyrics by Philippe Chatel with my English translation

Refrain:
Oh, qu'est-ce qui pique, ce hérisson
Oh, qu'elle est triste sa chanson
Oh, qu'est-ce qui pique, ce hérisson
Oh, qu'elle est triste sa chanson
Chorus:
Oh, how he prickles, this porcupine,
Oh, how sad is his song.
Oh, how he prickles, this porcupine
Oh, how sad is his song.

C'est un hérisson qui piquait, qui piquait
Et qui voulait qu'on l'caresse, resse, resse
On l' caressait pas, pas, pas, pas, pas
Non pas parce qu'il piquait pas, mais mais parce qu'il piquait
It was a porcupine that prickled, that prickled
And who wanted to be caressed,ressed,ressed
Caressed he was not, not, not, not, not
Not because he didn't prickle, but because he prickled

(Repeat Chorus)

Le hérisson:
Quelle est la fée dans ce livre
Qui me donn'ra l'envie d'vivre
Quelle est la petite fille aux yeux bleus
Qui va m'rendre heureux
The Porcupine:
Who is the fairy in this book
Who'll give me the desire t'live
Who is the little girl with the blue eyes
Who'll make me happy

Emilie:
Moi, je ne vois que moi
Il n'y a que moi
Dans ce livre là
Moi, je ne vois que moi
Il n'y a que moi
Dans ce livre là,la
la la la...
Emilie:
Me, I see only me
There is only me
In this book
Me, I see only me
There is only me
In this book - I actually love this part because it has two meanings. In the first instance, Emilie is answering the porcupine's question, acknowledging that she is the only one who can help him. But at the same time, on a broader scale, she expresses her realisation that her book journey is solitary and that everything so far, has been a product of her imagination, or a reflection of herself. I love this.

Le conteur:
Emilie est allée caresser le hérisson !
Narrator:
Emilie has gone to caress the porcupine!

Emilie:
Elle n'est plus triste, cette chanson
J'ai caressé le hérisson
Emilie:
This song is no longer sad
I have caressed the porcupine

Chœurs:
Il n'est plus triste, le hérisson
Elle a caressé la chanson !
Chorus:
He is no longer sad, the porcupine
She has caressed the song! (a bit of kiddish humour there....)

Le conteur:
Mais non, le hérisson
Narrator:
No, [she means] the porcupine...

Chœurs:
Mais non, le hérisson !
Chorus:
No, the porcupine!

Here's the song, in case you want to sing along!

Aquarius

2009-08-31T18:20:00.006+10:00

Aquarius has so often been associated with knowledge, innovation, future technology and in recent times, computer science. For me the icon that comes to mind when I think of Aquarius is that fantastic figure, Astroboy. Quirky... Yes. That's another thing you can say about Aquarians!

My version of Aquarius may be more feminine than Astroboy but there are similarities between the two. I've placed her in a foreign planetary landscape denoting space travel and given her fiery red leather boots that even Astroboy would covet in lieu of his jet-propelled shoes.

This hot lady's boots are like the seven mile boots owned by the giant in Jack and the Beanstalk. Aquarius can use them to leap up into space or travel wherever she chooses, leaping seven miles (or seven hundred miles!) with every step. There's really nowhere this pioneer will not go which is just as well because Aquarians enjoy travel and expanding their minds.

Aquarius has just landed and is holding a pack of cards and a knife. Whatever for?

Well it's worth looking at other aspects of this sign. Aquarius is linked with anything new and avant-garde. Natives can be eccentric because they are true visionaries who are not limited by standards and commonalities. They can seem out of touch or aloof to others and their humour is sometimes offbeat. So that explains the knife and the cards which are an odd combination.

Yet there is another explanation...the Aquarian ability to see far into the future well before others can and to implement the new, denote their inherent clairvoyance. Aquarians can see trends before others can and are always one step ahead. This Aquarian lady is in fact a space travelling gypsy. Her fortune telling cards are symbolic of her clairvoyant qualities. Continuing with the gypsy theme, I've given Aquarius dark Iberian features and equipped her with a stabbing knife à la Carmen.

Notice she holds the knife high and points it away, towards the ground. Will she drop it like she does with the cards? Probably. Aquarians are true humanitarians. They usually show tolerance for others and have a deep understanding of the variety in human nature and cultures. I couldn't see my Aquarian lady using that knife.

My lovely gypsy is equipped to roam independently wherever she chooses. She likes to try anything new so I've dressed her up in an unusual fawn cowhide corset and miniskirt with dark red leather straps. That outfit is worthy of a Sergio Leone western don't you think? Overall it ties in perfectly with the Spanish gypsy theme since most of those Spaghetti westerns were filmed in Spain. But I digress...

Generation Gap

2009-08-25T15:49:00.009+10:00

I'm turning 34 this year. According to the Australian female life expectancy I have about 50 more years to go. I wonder what those 50 years have in store for me. I hope it's as exciting as what I've had so far!

I've just realised two things.

The first one is this. When my grandmother turned 34 in 1957, she would have been pregnant with her sixth child. What an incredible feat. Right now, I can hardly imagine myself having one child, let alone six of them! As it turned out, my grandmother had seven children.

My mum (5 years) and uncle (3) - Cambodia, 1954

The second thing I've realised is that when my father was 34, meaning I would have been about a year old, I believe he served a six months jail sentence in Dakar (Senegal). Judging from the appalling conditions in those African cells, this means he was in hell for 6 months. I understand also, that the reason I was sent to France as a baby was that my mum could not cope during this demanding period and my grandmother had to take care of me (for about two years) instead. It was a very difficult time for my parents. They never talk about it. I've been probing them with questions and there is an evasiveness which you can probably imagine. Personally, I think it's a remarkable story and that it deserves a blog post at some stage.

With my pending 34th year, I can not unfortunately claim to have had the experiences that my close relatives had. A Dakar prison cell is worlds away from my stable, secure existence. And my carefree lifestyle is miles apart from the responsibility that my grandmother inherited when she was so much younger than me.

This generation gap has me feeling a tad superficial.

Eyeliner

2009-08-20T19:19:00.007+10:00

It's strange being a woman and realising you haven't been to the hairdresser for 10 months and knowing that this 2008 hairdresser visit was also one year since the previous one...

I also took note that the one and only professional facial I've had in my entire life was a couple of years ago. It was a gift too...I wouldn't have thought of it.
That's not all, I don't do pedicures and manicures.

After applying SPF 15 moisturiser, I take less than 15 minutes to apply the little cosmetics I know of: primer, make-up, blush, lipgloss and very rarely, mascara. Truth is, I've only just learnt about primer this year.

And now I have reached a middle age crisis.
You see, this month, after years of shunning it, I've discovered eyeliner.
Yes, you read right. Eyeliner.
Being a regular contact lens wearer is one of the reason I avoided putting anything on my eyes.
So this eyeliner is quite a revolution for me!

Besides I think it's time I stop relying on my genes and actually start to groom myself.

I want to be made up to look like the gorgeous (and talented) Violet Vex. She recently completed a photo shoot with Mark Greenmantle to advertise for clothing store Voodoo Lulu in Fortitude Valley. Love the make up. Oh, and the clothes!

August Reckonings

2009-08-11T14:57:00.007+10:00

It appears that my July break during which I had planned so many activities has reached an unanticipated end. My Sydney trip was no sooner over that I was suddenly back at uni. How I would have liked to drag the July days and not sleep more than 4 hours per night in order to have more time for personal projects.

Time time time! WHO'S GOT THE TIME????

Disney's Mad Hatter - Try to beat that, Johnny!

In case you are wondering about this magic quote, it is ejaculated by the Mad Hatter in Disney's Alice in Wonderland. I always enjoy that part. For me, it's one of the highlights of surrealistic cinema. Anyway, the next thing you know, Mad Hatter grabs the White rabbit's clock which he promptly diagnoses as being out of tune and attempts to revive it with a healthy dose of condiments, spreading butter, jam and everything else that appears on the non-anniversary party table, well, everything except, and it must be clearly enunciated in case one should ever make that mistake: mustard!! So just remember that.

The report on the novel is that it's going splendidly. That is, I hate it. I've been reassured by a close writer/director/producer friend that this healthy hatred for a manuscript still in its early draft version is actually a very good sign.

Well let's be fair, I do enjoy reading the individual chapters but remain concerned about the momentum (or lack of) between each section. I also feel as though some sentences are far too long to convey action and build up interest. It's not complete and stands now at about 155000 words. I have, however, completed most of the research.

During the last bout of research, I found myself browsing through the Muslim architecture of Southern India during the 1400s. Meanwhile, the last chapter I completed related to the Tea Horse Trade at its peak, in particular, the trade route that linked the tea plantations of Pu'er (Yunnan, China) with Lhasa in Tibet, or Tubo as the Ming called it. As you can probably imagine, I've been around!

My plan is to write a little each week while I complete the last semester of my let's-call-it-what-it-really-is, Psychology degree.

So what else, have I been doing while my blog lay idle? Well the Tran Tien Genealogy is now complete and I'm also halfway through Aquarius. She is the fourth star chick from my Zodiac Girls series. This Mexican looking Gimp vamp shall be posted shortly. Please do not expect a woman carrying a pitcher. Aquarius is an AIR sign for heaven's sake. So no water thank you.

May I squeeze in an irrelevant-revelation?
I'm loving my current university subjects. One of them relates to the design of Psychometric Assessments. I'm learning how to design questionnaires to ensure that they are empirically valid in measuring the construct (e.g. introversion, risk-taking) that they purport to measure and that they are also reliable, that is, yielding consistent results for each participants over time. It follows that one of my great friends this semester is a Statistics application called SPSS. It's a lot of fun!

It must be said, SPSS is almost as fun as Matlab. I remember feeling a surge of excitement whenever I plugged in a formula on the Matlab command line while analysing the trajectory of a ballistic missile for one of my engineering assignments. Back then I really believed that I'd join Nasa and dabble in secret weapons. Little did I know that I actually had a conscience.

Anyway, that's my current SPSS passion. Many psychology students hate it, as much as they hate the Psychological Methodology aspect of the degree. Hang on, have you figured it out? Psychology is not at all about intuition is it? You have to use... wait for it...take a deep breath: maths! In fact, psychological findings are often very counter-intuitive so that without mathematical analysis it would not be possible to demonstrate that what we believe is "common sense" is actually wrong. Tell that to the next person who assures you that "human behavior is common sense and you don't need a scientist to figure it out."
Ahum, ok. Well having snubbed my nose at the infidels, and regained my integrity as a psychology student, I'd now like to re-align this post to what it was originally about...

What was it about?

Well, it's just this. Let's pretend my name is Mrs Smith.

I got a phone call from a Debbie from the Heart Foundation.
I picked up the phone and said hello.

Debbie: Mrs Smith??? Is that you??
Me: Yes. Speaking.
Debbie: Is that you Mrs Smith? (she says, in an alarmed voice bordering on rudeness) You sound really really young...you sound like one of those kids from the...
Me: Err...ok...(gee, why am I not surprised?)

etc... until I apologetically told her that I didn't have enough time to go fundraising in September and hung up.

Let's just say that I had a similar encounter almost 18 months ago when a police officer called to discuss the Police Youth Club. He was much more to the point. He asked to speak with my mother.

Yes, I know, I've already ranted about how young I look for a 33 year old. But this is much worse: I sound young too. Joy!

I'm not going to feign exasperation for having good genes but this voice thing better not work against me at job interviews! Imagine, it's like walking around with a "Don't Take Me Seriously" sign on my forehead. Debbie was sooooooo relaxed talking to me, I bet she'd have put on her best professional voice and donned on white gloves had she been speaking to a deep-throated gentleman on the phone.

Why are people so fake? If you change your speech mannerisms while talking to different people based on their age (social background?), one day you are bound to find embarrassment because of incorrect assumptions. Personally, I much prefer to be humble and respectful as often as I can rather than adopt a power stance based on who I talk to.
You never know who that stranger is. And actually, regardless of who that stranger is, it ought not to determine how respectfully you treat them.

Leo

2009-07-23T09:27:00.005+10:00

Queen Nadia

Happy Birthday to all Leos!

No, that's not me. I do not have a Leo Sun. However my Rising Sign, Moon and Venus were all in Leo at birth. If you are like me and have a strong Leo presence in your birth chart, you may pay heed to this description as well. Rising Sign Leo describes how people see me. Moon in Leo indicates how I react emotionally and Venus in Leo tells me how I behave in love and relationships.

A bit of sunshine never hurt anyone and that's precisely the sort of warmth that Leos are known for, with their enthusiasm and exuberance, everyone wants to bask in the glow of the Leo's sun.

I've placed this character in a desert landscape because it conveys heat and warmth. Leo is fondly placing her arm over her beloved camel, denoting Leo natives' capacity for demonstrative affection. The splendid red outfit works well to grab attention, something Leos don't mind at all.

As for that fierce camel, it's an animal that suitably conveys the pride and dignity that the natives emanate in all they do. Meanwhile, camels also evoke endurance. There is a loyal streak in all well-treated camels, a loyal streak which is grossly undermined. So overall, the camel is a strong symbol of the devoted Leo native and their enduring love.

To add to the regal quality of this character I've made her a haughty queen. Her name is Queen Nadia. This strong lady is on a desert adventure and apart from her Fire sign comrade, daredevil Aries, no one quite matches her thirst for excitement and for the execution of grand projects.

You will notice that Queen Nadia has a sword which only continues my obscene pattern of phallic symbols and doesn't really signify anything in terms of her astral representation except perhaps that you should never cross a Leo.

She's a little bit arrogant in this photo, good for her. She's quite frankly telling you that if you don't measure up, she won't have time for you. Only the best will do for this lady thank you very much.

Tran Tien Muu

2009-07-13T10:43:00.001+10:00

Tran Tien Muu was Tran Tien-Dan's first son.

After obtaining solid results in his studies, he began a mandarin career under the reign on emperor Dong-Khanh who preceded Thanh Thai. He was promoted to Minister of the Interior (the equivalent of the Home Secretary).

In 1891 in the second year of Thanh-Thai's reign, the Director of the Minister's cabinet put forward a petition in his favour in which he praised Tran Tien Muu's qualities of integrity and loyalty and suggested that he be promoted.

In 1894, emperor Thanh-Thai named him Tri-Huyen of Quang-Tri.

The year after, he occupied the same role but this time in Quang-Nam. In 1900, he occupied the same role but this time for the Nghe-An Province.

In 1905, he temporarily became Tri-Phu of An-Son. Then in 1907, emperor Tuy-Tan also gave him the same role.

In the beginning of 1910, emperor Duy-Tan conferred him the title "THI GIANG HOC SY" and ten months later, he names him Chief of the Nghe-An Province. He occupied this position for one year before dying of a brief illness. At his death, he was given the cult name "DOAN LANG TRAN TIEN-MUU".

His wife TA THI-THIEU (1866 - 1939) was the eldest daughter of TA PHOC-BANH, Senior Mandarin of Public Works. She gave Tran Tien Muu ten children.

Six sons including,

TRAN TIEN-DU (1887 - 1907)
-Remained single and died at 20 years of age
TRAN TIEN-THUYEN (1889 - 1928)
-Mandarin in Chief
TRAN TIEN-TRU (1890 - ?)
-Mandarin of Primary Education
TRAN TIEN-THUOC (1892-1967)
-Director of Primary Education in the Province of Quang-Nam
Chief Archivist of the Royal Library of Hue
Father of Phuong Lan my grandmother
TRAN TIEN-NGUYEN-VY (1898 - ?)
-Doctor - Deputee at the National Assembly
TRAN TIEN-TAP (1903 - ? )

Four daughters including,
THI-TUAN (1894 - ?)

Back to Tran Genealogy Index

Le Monde est Stone - English Translation

2009-07-11T22:03:00.003+10:00

I've loved this song since I was 11.
Garou sings it pretty well. But I can't find the female vocals I liked...and no it wasn't Celine Dion's version.
Le Monde est Stone - sung by Garou

Interesting angle on the Garou video clip. I never interpreted the song as relating to a reaction to world conflict and the devastating effect of war. Although it's probably very suited I suppose. Personally, I saw it more as a person's inner struggle to deal with their different outlook on existence, their sense of alienation and feeling out of touch with everything that other people prize. I read it more as a sort of nihilist outlook compounded by a dread for life, a thirst for feeling, perhaps underlined by the accusative "the world is stone", the world is rock hard and unfeeling perhaps. Also read it as having an existentialist theme and a message about the profound meaninglessness of everything. That sort of thing.

One great song that I still very much love.
So here are the publically available French lyrics with my own English translation.

Le Monde est Stone / The World is Stone

J'ai la tête qui éclate
J'voudrais seulement dormir
M'étendre sur l'asphalte
Et me laisser mourir

I've a head about to burst
I'd like only to sleep
To stretch myself on the asphalt
And let myself die

Stone
Le monde est stone
Je cherche le soleil
Au milieu de la nuit
J'sais pas si c'est la Terre
Qui tourne à l'envers
Ou bien si c'est moi
Qui m'fait du cinéma
Qui m'fait mon cinéma

Stone
The world is stone
I'm looking for the sun
In the middle of the night
Dunno if it's the Earth
That's spinning in reverse
Or if it's me
Making myself some cinema (expression, actually means: dramatising things)
Making myself my own cinema

J'ai plus envie d'me battre
J'ai plus envie d'courir
Comme tous ces automates
Qui bâtissent des empires
Que le vent peut détruire
Comme des châteaux de cartes

I no longer want to fight,
I no longer want to run,
Like all those automatons
Who build empires
That the wind can destroy
Like castles made of cards

Stone
Le monde est stone
Je cherche le soleil
Au milieu de la nuit

Stone
The world is stone
I'm looking for the sun
In the middle of the night

Laissez moi me débattre
Venez pas m'secourir
Venez plutôt m'abattre
Pour m'empêcher d'souffrir
J'ai la tête qui éclate
J'voudrais seulement dormir
M'étendre sur l'asphalte
Et me laisser mourir

Let me struggle (Note: talking to many people)
Don't come and rescue me
But rather, come finish me off
To prevent me from suffering
I've a head about to burst
I'd like only to sleep
To stretch myself on the asphalt
And let myself die.

Tran Tien Dan

2009-07-11T15:05:00.000+10:00

Regent Tran Tien-Thanh's first son, Tran Tien Dan was born in 1850. He was the third child of the regent's first wife, Luong Thi-Thuy.

Tran Tien Dan never learnt about his father's assassination.

His died at the age of 31 in 1881, two years before Regent Tran Tien-Thanh was killed by Thuyet's guards.

Tran Tien-Dan was described as intelligent and of good character. But he was not attracted to a career as a mandarin. This is attributed to the fact that when he began to embark on a career, his country, Vietnam was going through a difficult period. He therefore chose to take care of family matters which his dad, too occupied by affairs of state, had been obliged to neglect.

Tran Tien-Dan's many responsibilities included: maintaining the family house, improving the state of paddyfields and of the other land areas as they were acquired along the years.

He also occupied himself with collecting the consent of family members for the relocation of graves belonging to paternal relatives so that rather than being scattered in various places, they could be gathered around the ancestral tomb of "Thi-To".

Tran Tien Dan married Cung-Huy Thi-Nghi-Nhan (1849 - 1900). She was the fifth daughter of the Judicial Mandarin Cung The-Du who originated from Thanh-hoa. She gave him twelve children.

Five sons:
Tran Tien-Muu -(1868 - 1911)
He became Chief of the Nghe-An Province
Tran Tien Soan
Tran Tien Thuc (1875 - 1925)
Tran Tien Nhuong (1877 - 1917)

Seven daughters, including:
Thi-Yen
Thi-Hy
Thi-Tu - who born in 1879, was honored at the age of 14 to join the Harem of Emperor Thanh-Thai who was of the same age.
At the court, she was renamed Tai Nhan. Several years later, she was authorised to regain the familial home to take care of her mother. I wonder whether this return to the family home had anything to do with Emperor Thanh-Thai being forced to abdicate from the throne after the French declared him insane. Later on, in 1916, Thanh-Thai was sent to exile in the Reunion Island together with his son. Thanh-Thai's own story is fascinating.
Meanwhile, his consort, Tai Nhan had belonged to the Emperor and for this reason could not belong to any other Vietnamese. At the age of 20, she ended up marrying Au Phu Quan, a Chinese businessman from Hainam Island.

Tran Tien Dan was buried in Hue and received the cult name:
TUE GIAN TRAN TIEN-DAN

In the ninth and last year of his reign, the unpopular emperor KHAI-DINH, incidentally also a drug addict, conferred him the title:
PHUNG TIEN DAI-PHU HAN-LAM VIEN THI GIANG

Back to Tran Genealogy Index

Scorpio

2009-06-29T21:30:00.005+10:00

An obsessive, passionate creature looming in the darkness. That's how I saw Scorpio when I first drew her. In her right hand, she holds a cup filled with some dark potion, a poisonous brew no doubt, and you can see that I've added an ominous vapor emanating from the golden cup. That is some lethal drink. This woman means business.

A couple of touches are inspired from her traditional animal, the Scorpion. One of these is a sharp hook, in lieu of pincers, that she uses to scrape at her enemies. Because you should know that Scorpios do remember everything and they will eventually get even whenever it matters. Another scorpion symbol, is a sharp set of blades that dangles from the braid in her auburn hair. It's a sort of weapon, a reminder that Scorpio can defend itself well.

Actually her pendant is also a hook...or is it a crescent Moon? I like to think it's a Moon considering the Moon's influence on mood and that Scorpio is very emotional. But the hook/moon ambiguity highlights the fact that you never really know what Scorpios are feeling, or whether they are feeling it at all, so good are they at hiding their inner emotional turmoil.

The galaxies were not in the picture when I drew this years ago. I added them because to me Scorpio is not all about dark forces and malefic will, that's an absurd stereotype. I think there's a spiritual force in Scorpio that transcends time and space and motivates the native to achieve and focus for years to arrive at their goal. Often this motivation is very intrinsic and does not depend on external rewards or material gain. I think for this reason, Scorpios can be truly spiritual in that they are moved by deep forces within.
So I have her floating like a sort of celestial body removed from all material attachments.

Strangely, no phallic symbol for this one. I've noticed that my other Zodiac girls are sporting swords, orbs, horns and other longish, tubular objects. I don't know why I omitted sexuality symbols in my Scorpio characterisation. After all, isn't Scorpio also about sexual energy? To compensate, I used a lot of black and purples because these colors have been associated with deviancy, the underworld and sexuality. Very appropriate don't you think?

Capricorn

2009-06-23T20:36:00.007+10:00

Mara

When I drew Capricorn, a very long time ago, I had in mind a powerful sorceress. Someone who will put up with no nonsense. Someone who has lived many years and developed wisdom from experience.

There is an intensity to Capricorn, not unlike that found in Scorpio. Here she is hard at work, determined and purposeful. I placed a book on the floor to indicate knowledge and resourcefulness which I think Capricorns usually have or at least, value. The book also represents tradition. The burning candle light indicates that the sorceress is working late at night, long after we have all thrown the towel and gone to sleep.

There is often a playfulness in those earthy natives. It is illustrated here with the sorceress abandoning herself to the joyful momentum of a new incantation while ribbon-like strands of light emanate in all directions from her magic orb, creating a sort of mischievous chaos around an otherwise orderly native.

Sadly I have to admit that her orb looks a little bit like a lollipop but it doesn't bother me too much! After all, the more Capricorns age, the more youthful they become. In many ways.

The New Nude

2009-06-23T18:08:00.006+10:00

Have just finished all my exams for this semester and feel a burst of creativity surging forth. So it's time to abandon the lab sensors and the glia obsession and dive into some sensual projects...

A week ago, I scanned some old drawings which I estimate to have completed between 1990 and 1995. I wanted to color them in for years but never got around to it, mainly because I sux at coloring.

Since then I've been using Gimp to add splashes of color but I am not a DeviantArt-worthy artist and the effect is far from my ideal effect, let's see... that would be, somewhere between Anime and Boris Vallejo. Yeah, I wish!!

I could benefit from downloading some proper drawing artsy software but I don't know much about what is available and need to research it properly before I complicate my life for no reason. So Gimp is ok for now. I would benefit from a few online tuts on coloring techniques but I'm enjoying exploring with colors per se at the moment rather than dabbling into anything too technical.

And it's wonderful! Today I came back from my exam around lunch, sat on my black leather seat in front of the computer and played for hours. I played with abandon, fixating the screen with delight until I forgot to blink and had tears in my eyes. Oh the joy! If only office work were that fun. I never even looked at the clock and before I knew it, it was 5pm!

Among other things, I've colored my first Nude today. I like to imagine that she's sensually draped in Byzantine blue velvet and waiting for her master. Love her back and enjoyed coloring it.

Roman Slave

Oh yeah... I should mention that there is a running theme with my drawings...
I like to draw women. A lot of them.
Mostly naked or in fantasy costumes and dreamscapes.

For example, twelve of my drawings feature female characterisations of the twelve signs of the Zodiac. I drew them at least 13 years ago and even gave them names. So their costume, behavior and situation theoretically matches their zodiac description. Anyway, will post more about all this another time...

So many things to do in my July break before the next semester begins.
My plan for the break:

1. Write 25 pages per week - that should allow me to complete the first draft of my historical novel but considering I ramble incessantly and always imagine additional details/scenes, I may be at it in November as well...

2. Complete my zodiac girls - and post some artsy entries on this blog. (Don't hold your breath for anything spectacular.) But it's nice to do something creative, it relaxes me so much.

3. Watch more foreign films - Aaargh! I crave films in general. I've not been able to watch many films since May. The semester was unkind. But I conquered and I'M BACK!!

4. Complete the Tran Tien family genealogy - I like to complete my blog projects properly and this is well overdue.

5. Enjoy my Sydney holiday! I've booked a 2-bedroom apartment at the Meriton World Tower so that's also part of the excitement. What could I possibly do with 2 bedrooms you ask? MMmmm...yes, I know. Well, it was a special package and I couldn't resist.

6. Make notes for my second novel. My little brain is bursting with ideas so it's time to jot them down.

Facebook Unfriending Feature - Amusing But True

2009-06-11T13:36:00.010+10:00

Facebook developers need to cater for social realities and create a new feature: providing a reason for unfriending Friends.

At the moment, whenever you unfriend a friend, they simply disappear from your list of friends and can no longer access your Facebook profile. This occurs without Notification to the unfriendee.

Why should unfriending someone be a sneaky, undercover act? It seems so dishonest and encourages gutless behaviour.
Since when does Facebook allow any actions to be performed undercover or with scant notice to those parties involved?

Facebook users are bombarded every day with status updates and Notifications. Why should such a significant action as 'unfriending' someone remain so hidden, giving the unfriendee no clue as to what has happened? Worse, unfriendees often have to parse through their friend list whenever they eventually notice that their friend count has decreased, in order to locate the missing friend. If and when they finally determine the missing friend, they are left wondering why they were unfriended. This can often be a tormenting or dangerously speculative experience and in extreme cases, may even sour future relations or lead to paranoia.

So enough said. Unfriending needs to change on Facebook.
It should be an honest, reasonable action leaving the unfriender's dignity intact and educating the unfriendee to avoid misunderstandings.

So here's a suggestion for a Facebook enhancement. heh heh.

When a Facebook user clicks on "Remove From Friends", a prompt window should open listing several reasons to choose from together with an 'other' textbox for free text entry. Unfrienders should be able to check one of the available options or type in their own personal reason. Only the unfriendee will ever see this reason so privacy will be maintained.

Unfriended friends (or should that be, unfriended ex-friends!) should then get a Notification indicating:
1) that they are no longer your friend and
2) your reason for unfriending them.

An example notification would be:

Laura has unfriended you because your comments on her Wall are inappropriate.

or the more friendly,

Laura has unfriended you because she is spring cleaning and realised over time that you actually don't log into Facebook anyway. Where the hell are you?

or how about,

Laura has unfriended you because she has no idea who you are and you're probably just a Narcissist seeking to multiply your friend count past 1000.

or better still,

Laura has unfriended you because you're friends with someone she can't stand. Traitor!

even better yet,

Laura has unfriended you because in the first place, she only befriended you out of curiosity and has decided that you are indeed not worth her time.

for fun,

Laura has unfriended you to see if you would even notice.

for the nitpicky,

Laura has unfriended you because you forgot to wish her a happy birthday. This is your last chance! Now get your act together.

And lastly,

Laura has unfriended you because she fully understands that you only befriended her for self-interested networking reasons and/or to bask in her glory by having her appear in your list of connections and quite frankly, she doesn't have the patience to indulge people like you.

I think it's time for Facebook to stand up to the complex realities existing in the social world. So no more sneaky acts, Facebook users will soon have the opportunity to demonstrate fearless courage and stand by their motivation for unfriending behavior. Let's make it happen!

oh, and I couldn't resist these gem definitions of Unfriend from Urban Dictionary.

Star Girl

2009-05-17T22:23:00.005+10:00

I admit, with all that talk about psychology I'm a still a little bit of a renegade.
I break the rules. I'm shameless: no matter how many times I read a psychology textbook debunking the Zodiacs, I am still passionate about astrology. It's ingrained in my way of thinking, I've been studying it for years, probably since I was 10. I'm ready to have a debate with any psychologist that astrology may not be a science but it should not be so easily dismissed.

During my readings, I've come across details that are frightening. For example, this jewel about the Rooster Man's love behavior. I have yet to meet a male Rooster who doesn't manifest unconscious sadistic tendencies to protect themselves from their anxieties and self-doubts.
When reading about a person's chart, I like to concentrate on their Chinese birth year, month and hour. And I also combine those descriptions with their Western Moon, Venus, Mars and Sun signs. The combination reading is usually pretty detailed and insightful. There is nothing vague about it. Recently I've touched on the Indian Moon Nakshatras and I see some truths in my sign, Hasta. Also fascinating are the different Decans for each star sign. For example, I'm a First Decan Libran. From which I particularly appreciate this sentence:

These natives must guard against defining themselves in terms of a significant other and strive to "be their own person," which will raise self-esteem and make them no less loveable in the process.

Absolutely nothing vague about this description. Unfortunately, that is indeed a flaw I have. I need a backbone when it comes to my romantic relationships! But anyway yesterday I found a jewel of a description.
It's me to a T.

Here it is:

Rabbit/Libra
Here is an aristocratic Rabbit. This native's manners are delicate and studied. Diplomacy for him is an ethic and behind his frail appearance hides a prodigious inner strength that analyses each one of your attitudes to find your weak points. This subject is unpredictable and never reveals his game. He's also an aesthete.

Ah yes, my frail appearance has indeed misled a lot of unscrupulous people in the past and this to their eventual detriment.
Meanwhile, I pride myself on my unpredictability although sometimes I tend to also confuse myself with it so it's not always a good thing! I never know what I'm going to do next. (Incidentally that is a trait corresponding with my being born on the Hour of the Tiger, Tigers are unpredictable.)
As for me never revealing my game, well there are very few people I fully trust. I can count them on three fingers, if that.

Sadness - The Origin of Human Emotion

2009-05-16T10:17:00.006+10:00

I'm working on an assignment relating to the brain's cortical structures such as the medial prefrontal cortex and its involvement, together with subcortical structures like the amygdala and the hippocampus, in the realm of emotion and emotion regulation.

I was struck by a passage that I read in a text written by Jonathan H. Turner. It's about the conceptualisation of sadness in terms of brain activity. It offers a social explanation for the role of sadness. It's also about the evolutionary role of sadness for survival. I've highlighted in bold those passages I'm fond of.

...One answer is that sadness is simply a by-product of depression of neurotransmitters, neuroactive peptides, and, as recent imaging studies reveal, underactivation of the subgenual prefrontal cortex (Drevets et al. 1997).

Another answer is that sadness is a very effective mechanism of social control.
For example, guilt and shame are often the outcome when a person senses that they have made others unhappy or sad by not meeting expectations; and so moral codes and comformity to them are built, not just on positive and negative sanctions, but also upon more complex sanctioning practices that avoid the full mobilization of anger.
Sadness is a very effective negative sanction because [..] it does not contain the volatitily of anger-based negative sanctions; and it is effective as a direct sanctioning technique by others, while at the same time, it often evokes sadness in the person who feels that they have failed to meet others' or their own expectations [..]. Thus guilt, shame, and other emotions in which sadness is a dominant componant are probably more than a by-product of suspension of other emotional responses; sadness is a key to social control revolving around negative sanctioning that avoids the volatility of anger and fear, although these latter emotions are part of a complex second-order emotions like shame and guilt. Moreover, sadness is also a signal to others that the individual is in need of social support. By reading signals of sadness, others become aware that a person requires attention and positive emotions. In fact, sadness is a good example of how humans read emotions nonverbally, because we respond most actively to body signals that a person is unhappy. There was probably selection for this kind of response, since, if a group-living animal with strong bioprogrammers for such living is to sustain solidarity, it must be able to read and respond to cues that [other] individuals are not mobilized to put energy into solidarity-maintaining rituals.
- Jonathan H. Turner, On the origins of human emotion: a sociological inquiry into the evolution of human affect, Stanford University Press, 2000

I supposed that people who are adept at dissimulating to others that they are sad often do not receive the social support that they need. It is ironic that such people may believe themselves to be self-sufficient and well-adapted but in fact by refusing to overtly manifest their sadness, they are arguably behaving in a way contrary to what survival dictates.

Meanwhile, I find it interesting how humans, at least those who are pro-social, are wired to interpret any form of 'low activity', 'low social presence', 'withdrawing' in any other individual, as a sign that something is wrong. If they see that an individual is no longer actively engaging in social activities and instead undergoes a period of 'depressed' living, it is then instinctively believed that this person, according to Turner, is unable to mobilize energy into solidarity-maintaining rituals. And in that case, evolutionarily speaking, people tend to think that this person's survival may be threatened and from this realisation stems an attempt by others to support them.

How illuminating!

Dr. X

2009-05-14T22:22:00.008+10:00

I've been involved in some stalking lately.

I'm stalking a lecturer in fact. Mind you, it's only mild, harmless stalking. The Google type.

Besides, this lecturer, he maintains a blog. On Blogger that is.
He's also conveniently the sole person with that good name on Facebook and Twitter. He even has his own web page.

So you see his profiles are all very public and I guess you could coin my stalking 'research'.

It begs the question though, who would do that? Stalk their own lecturer, I mean. Unless they were infatuated...
Please believe me, I'm not. Not a single attraction there. No, it's something else altogether. I've a one track mind about a novella concept that I've toyed with for over a year. And well...let me explain.

I have my reason for being interested in this guy.

What fascinates me is his psychology research interests.
They are frighteningly similar to mine: the neuroscience of social behavior, studies on intergroup relations and prejudice, psychophysiology of emotions... It's disturbing. Disturbing it is, because in addition to this similarity, according to his blog, he seems to show a vivid interest in film analysis, music [lyrics] and culture. It aroused my curiosity instantly because these are the two areas that I've focused on in the last 5 years: film studies and psychology. Meanwhile, because of my background, I have also had an almost personal (arrogant) interest in culture and intergroup relations. Finally in my blog, I often present lyrics and lyrics translations. So overall, my intuitive gut feel when I viewed his blog, is that we must share a common outlook on the world, at least in some ways. I realise he's much more educated and that his blog is a wealth of well integrated research on many subjects that I'm mostly ignorant about. Still, I maintain that there are common interests.

As an aside, the combination film/psychology is not unusual, not only in terms of personal interests but also in the creative industry.
For example, I've read of many successful writers and directors who had studied psychology (note the distinction: they are psychology graduates, not 'psychologists'). The french thriller "Hidden" was written by psychology graduate Michael Haneke. And beyond this, film analysis does borrow from psychoanalysis.

I'm digressing. So this lecturer shares some of my interests. So what. This similarity shouldn't be given salience. I mean many people also like cinema and music so why shouldn't any old social neuroscientist also enjoy watching and analysing film and posting music lyrics? What's so curious about them if they do?

Why, you ask? Because this lecturer gave me full marks in my psychophysiology proposal. That's the scary proposal I wrote recently and which I mention here. This guy gave me full marks for a 40% third year psychology assignment. Far out, I've never had that happen to me. How does that happen?

I'm modest but still, I honestly don't think it was the best work I ever did. Ok, I liked it, but that's only because I love that research subject, I still gasped when I saw my mark and wondered whether there had been an oversight. Maybe because I have mildly low self-esteem, I've been attributing the mark to something else (alongside my hard work). I think, having considered everything, that he must have really liked the proposal, that it struck a common chord there and that he felt good (understood?) reading it. Of course he did, it's the type of work he enjoys and it was well written, I might add. I noticed he made a mention in happy red (red ink can often look angry... but that was happy red) that his lab was looking at similar issues. I was excited to know that. Very excited.

If, one day, I need professional feedback for the concepts in my novella, I will turn to him. I know he would be thrilled. He likes science fiction. Right now, though, I'm too shy. So I prefer to remain incognito for a while.

Maybe I could even make him into a character in my novella.
I'll call him Dr. X.

In one of his Blog posts, my lecturer laments the lack of academic references to his research papers by researchers whose work he values and who he wishes would also find interest in his own material. He communicates that he often feels that he doesn't exist and that all the work he has done in the last 15 years has been for nothing.

That post was written last year so hopefully he got over those dark thoughts since then. Either way, it made me very sad. I could not reconcile that someone whose professional work and values I put on the highest pedestal, could somehow feel, even in a moment of online melancholy, that they didn't exist.

Anyway Dr. X, don't worry. I'll make you eternal.

Gasping For Breath

2009-04-20T14:19:00.004+10:00

Today is a bit of a lazy day. My brain is fried and it's only mid April.

I'm in the middle of a 3500 words psychophysiology proposal due in 10 days.
I'm looking at measuring EMG corrugator supercilii and zygomatic major responses to happy/sad facial expressions from Black and White dynamic avatars after priming participants to develop a greater negative bias towards Black people. It's a cruel setting but it's a test of how empathy towards outgroups can be negatively manipulated by the media, especially in times of war. I'm three quarters through the Introduction of this proposal. I still have to write my method and my predictions. Method will be a little difficult as I have to describe the electrodes...oops, the "sensors"... and the EMG process in details, something a little different from the other reports I've written. Effectively I'm looking at a 2 x 2 x 2 mixed quasi-experimental factorial design so I'm still overwhelmed with the predictions and how to formulate my hypotheses.
That's why I'm happily taking a break today. Woohoo!!
It's not easy to avoid feeling like a mad scientist. Blogging helps.

Actually on that topic, I'm still smiling at what my psychophysiology lecturer said in the first lecture:

Today we don't refer to electrodes as "electrodes". In front of the participants we tend to call them "sensors" instead. It's because we are trying to get away from the whole Milgram thing...

Anyway I thought it was funny.

So now onto a mental reckoning of the other uni subjects... I'm due for a Neuroscience Quiz in two weeks, the second in a set of three. This is where I'll have to remember all the charming names of neurotransmitters among other things. After that, I still have another Behaviour Analysis and Modification lab report assignment to complete, two workbooks to hand in, at least 4 psychophysiological lab practicals to complete (although that part is quite fun) and an oral presentation on the Prefrontal Cortex to prepare for. All this to be completed by the end of May while I continue to attend classes and try to have a life. And then it's exam period...

This is the hardest semester I've had for a while and so when it's completed, I'll feel great.

Burgen For Men

2009-04-20T13:16:00.005+10:00

Times are definitely changing and the grocery shelves are one setting for this quiet revolution.
The Burgen Revolution.

Burgen, for those of you familiar with the brand, is more than bread. Think: wholesome designer slices, sordid combinations of grainy goodness, customised dough.

We women had it good when Burgen introduced its Soy & Linseed slices. Phytoestrogens in a slice...We women felt special. Phytoestrogens are marketed towards women as cancer fighting and PMS vanquishing agents. Visions of demure menopausal Japanese women come to mind. Youth in a slice. (Or so we thought until phytoestrogen was recently linked to potential tumor growth for women with a history of cancer. Research continues...)

I personally feel flattered whenever a company caters especially for women's needs. Oh, really, wow, for ME! Always a pleasure to differentiate oneself from the male crowd. Vive la différence! When I wheel into the bread aisle with my trolley, I usually check around me to see if other male shoppers are in the vicinity and once I'm assured of an audience, I proudly reach out for a packet of Burgen Soy & Linseed slices. Makes me feel like part of an elite group.
Well it's not quite like sanitary pads and tampons but it still feels special...

I think men must have secretly envied us for quite a while. What with all these products marketed especially for women.

And now, because all you metrosexual men threw a sissy fit, Burgen relented and unveiled its latest product: "Burgen For Men".

You heard me.

I'm looking at one now, it's on my lap as I type. I'll read the label to you.

"Grains with Barley" - For Men's Wellbeing.
Ooooh, that's nice!

Apparently, it includes "Protein for Muscle Strength". OH YEAH!!!!
See, all you guys could soon be ditching steaks and having bread instead to ensure you get your protein fix! Think about it.

I was in the stores today when I first saw the glorious "Burgen For Men" product. There it was, king of the shelves, already bullying the other Burgen breads. At first I had a bit of a knowing chuckle. Typical males, I thought. Hard Yakka crap.

But then, I had a change of heart. I parked my trolley in front of the "Burgen For Men" packets and contemplated for a while. A nauseating feeling of relative deprivation had now begun to torment me. There were some urgent questions I needed answered.
What do they have in THEIR bread that we're not getting???
What secret ingredient are MEN getting in THEIR bread that the producers think WE WOMEN are too wussy to digest????

Feeling a tad indignant, I reached out for one of the packets.

Then it gets ugly. I took a calculating glance at the Nutritional Information. Conspiracy! There was some solid dough richness there! I took an offended look at the mineral count for 2 slices of bread. Hell, they even have an entry for Zinc! How come the Soy & Linseed Nutritional information doesn't even include Zinc? No wonder my acne and skin condition is so bad. I notice that for 2 slices of "Burgen For Men", the Zinc intake constitutes 29% of the recommended dietery intake. That sold me.

So I snobbed the marketers and I ended up buying my very own Hard Yakka packet of "Burgen For Men". That's why it's on my lap right now. I've already eaten 2 slices and I feel stronger and more powerful already. So there.

I can take it.

My Re-invented Feminism

2009-03-05T17:58:00.005+10:00

Beware, I wrote this blog post while in the throes of marital uncertainty, during a period where my beliefs to not have children were dismissed, criticised and questioned by my family and by all the social norms I examined around me. Being different when you are surroundered with so much social conformity is difficult. Excuse my bluntness. Good journey to you.

I often think of those mothers who gently mock other women with condescending remarks such as "you like kids but you'd like to be able to give them back."

This would be about the moment where people like me can lower their head in shame and admit to their own foibles and selfish preoccupations. Yet, having considered everything, I'd like to proudly state that, yes, that description would fit me perfectly.

I do indeed like to give them back.

I have no interest in cooing, playing dumb games, wiping bottoms, changing nappies and cleaning up vomit. Who honestly enjoys this?
I'd much prefer to go shopping, read a book, go out for dinner, challenge my brain at work or university or watch a thought-provoking movie. I'm honest about my complete hedonistic approach to life.

If I were to choose to nurse or help someone or to play good Samaritan it would be an impulsive act. My pro social behavior won't arise as a need to justify my procreation decision or in order to appear selfless and all loving - in other words, in order to dispel the uneasiness of cognitive dissonance.

Still, I can't help thinking about that sort of statement. "You like kids but you'd like to be able to give them back." I can sense the implied understatement that I must be a self-interested, career focused woman who resents getting her manicured hands soiled. The statement fascinates me in as much as it seems totally oblivious to the facts concerning the other half of the population.
Because most men who have children do indeed love them and happily give them back, at least in the first years leading up to schooling.

If women have battled for years for equal opportunity in the work place and in the social fabric of Western society, it worries me that where parenthood is concerned, there is no equal opportunity to speak of.
Why is it ok for men to "give them back" and not ok for women to do so?
That this formula would be uttered by women raises even more concerns since these women are actually more sexist than they realise.

The truth is, if I ever decided to have a child, I'd like to be able to behave like a man. Is that possible? Because that's what I really really want. Equal opportunity!

I want to be able to yes, literally, "give the kid back". Because that is precisely what men do.

Better still, let's go for the full gamut. I don't want to be physically encumbered for 9 months, I want to continue having an uninterrupted, fulfilling education and career, enjoy life, and go home to a loving partner who has likely taken care of a bub for a good part of the day and cooked dinner for me. Then, having plonked myself on a sofa and raised my feet up, I want to get all chummy with my baby for a good couple of hours and then give it back and go out the next day like most men do. Bliss!

To hell with it, let's be frankly demanding. I want a man with a uterus who is happy to carry a child for 9 months for the joys of becoming a parent, who is selfless about giving up his career for a couple of months (at least) or perhaps years and who will then work hard at this unquestionably loving, selfless child raising task for the benefit of the family...all this, without a salary!!! Yes! Now we're talking emancipation. Anyone interested?

Where do I find these men?

Mylord - English Translation

2009-02-11T10:26:00.004+10:00

Since I seem to be on a roll with translating Edith Piaf's songs, I thought I'd do the honours for one of my favourites. I mentioned a while ago that I've always enjoyed singing Mylord during broody moments.

Basically this song tells the story of a young girl from more seedy areas of some French port who falls in love with a high society gentleman or lord (my lord = mylord with a French accent!) She has probably stalked him enough but he's never really payed any attention to her. One day, the man's heart is broken when his equally well-bred lady leaves the port to never return. This is our young girl's opportunity to cheer up Mylord and hint to her infatuation without any hope for anything in return.

I love this song because it hints to quiet, unrequited love and yearning. It also highlights the girl's complete self-oblivion in tending to her lord's broken heart with scant attention to her own.

Here it is!

Mylord by Edith Piaf

Alez, venez, Milord!
Vous asseoir à ma table;
Il fait si froid, dehors,
Ici c'est confortable.
Laissez-vous faire, Milord
Et prenez bien vos aises,
Vos peines sur mon coeur
Et vos pieds sur une chaise

Come along Milord!
Take a seat at my table;
It is so cold outside,
It's cosier in here.
Just relax Milord
And be sure to make yourself comfortable,
Let my heart share your pains,
And place your feet up on a chair.

Je vous connais, Milord,
Vous n'm'avez jamais vue
Je ne suis qu'une fille du port,
Qu'une ombre de la rue...

I know about you, Milord,
But you, you've never seen me.
I'm only a girl from the port,
A shadow in the streets...

Pourtant j'vous ai frolé
Quand vous passiez hier,
Vous n'étiez pas peu fier,
Dame! Le ciel vous comblait:
Votre foulard de soie
Flottant sur vos épaules,
Vous aviez le beau role,
On aurait dit le roi...
Vous marchiez en vainqueur
Au bras d'une demoiselle
Mon Dieu!... Qu'elle était belle...
J'en ai froid dans le coeur...

Yet I brushed past you
When you were passing by yesterday,
You were not just a little proud,
Hell! The heavens had blessed you:
Your silk scarp
Floated on your shoulders,
You were in the limelight, (literally "you had the best role")
One would have mistaken you for a king...
You walked like a conqueror,
A young lady under your arm
My God!....How beautiful she was...
It gives my heart such a chill...

Allez, venez, Milord!
Vous asseoir à ma table;
Il fait si froid, dehors,
Ici c'est confortable.
Laissez-vous faire, Milord,
Et prenez bien vos aises,
Vos peines sur mon coeur
Et vos pieds sur une chaise

Come along Milord!
Take a seat at my table;
It is so cold outside,
It's cosier in here.
Just relax Milord
And be sure to make yourself comfortable,
Let my heart share your pains,
And place your feet up on a chair.

Je vous connais, Milord,
Vous n'm'avez jamais vue
Je ne suis qu'une fille du port
Qu'une ombre de la rue...

I know about you, Milord,
But you, you've never seen me.
I'm only a girl from the port,
A shadow in the streets...

Dire qu'il suffit parfois
Qu'il y ait un navire
Pour que tout se déchire
Quand le navire s'en va...
Il emmenait avec lui
La douce aux yeux si tendres
Qui n'a pas su comprendre
Qu'elle brisait votre vie
L'amour, ca fait pleurer
Comme quoi l'existence
Ça vous donne toutes les chances
Pour les reprendre après...

And to think that often
All it takes is a ship
For everything to be ruined
When the ship leaves...
It takes away with it
The sweet one with eyes so tender
Who could not understand
That she was breaking your heart.
Love, it makes us cry
Such that one's existence
Gives one all the chances
Only to take them away afterwards...

Allez, venez, Milord!
Vous avez l'air d'un mome!
Laissez-vous faire, Milord,
Venez dans mon royaume:
Je soigne les remords,
Je chante la romance,
Je chante les milords
Qui n'ont pas eu de chance!
Regardez-moi, Milord,
Vous n'm'avez jamais vue...
...Mais... vous pleurez, Milord?
Ça... j'l'aurais jamais cru!...

Come along Milord!
You look like a kid!
Just relax Milord
Come into my kingdom:
I heal all remorse,
I sing all romances,
I sing for those milords
Who never had any chance!
Look at me Milord,
You have never seen me...
...But...You are crying, Milord?
That...I would never have believed it!...

Eh ben, voyons, Milord!
Souriez-moi, Milord!
...Mieux qu' ca! Un petit effort...
Voilà, c'est ca!
Allez, riez, Milord!
Allez, chantez, Milord!
La-la-la...
Mais oui, dansez, Milord!
La-la-la... Bravo Milord!
La-la-la... Encore Milord!... La-la-la...

Well then Milord!
Smile at me Milord!
...Better than that! A little effort...
There you go, that's it!
Come on laugh Milord!
Come on and sing Milord!
La-la-la...
Yes, dance Milord!
La-la-la...Bravo Milord!
La-la-la...One more Milord!...La-la-la...

Tran Tien Family Genealogy

2009-02-11T09:07:00.012+10:00

Two of my Vietnamese relatives who I've actually never met and who happened to stumble on this blog, kindly contacted me with some information on our family name. I have been so busy (distracted) of late that I could not make adjustments to this blog following their recommendations.

According to my relatives, after the assassination of Regent Tran Tien-Thanh, my family changed its name from "Tran Tien" to the more common Tran so as to avoid negative repercussions and protect the family members. My grandmother also explained to me that the dropping of the "Tien" removed association with the imperial family since that title had been conferred by Emperor Tu Duc.

However in recent years, my family has begun to use its rightful name once again. I guess that now, we are well and truly safe from the Co-Regents' wrath!! Naturally I was very excited to learn of this because it lends even more interest to the family history.

So to avoid further confusion, all references to the Tran genealogy in this blog are in fact alluding to the Tran Tien Genealogy.

All my humble thanks to Van Nghi Cong On and Brent Hung Tien Tran. Apologies for the delay with this as I am swamped.

L'Homme a La Moto - English Translation

2009-02-10T19:58:00.004+10:00

Remember that sinister Piaf song I was singing a few months ago? With my deep, tenebrous voice echoing against the shower walls...that song I sing regularly when I'm down, without knowing why...but it gives me such a lift!

Well it's about a delinquent and his effect on a small village.
It's this dude on a motorbike who treats his girl and all those around him carelessly. He meets his death in the end, during a violent accident.

I love this song. Amusing and terrifying at the same time! I think this song was socially relevant in the 50s or 60s when machinery and noise became the dread of previously quiet French villages (or towns)! The song has a warning quality and seems disapproving of loud noise, speed, machinery and youth's newly found freedom. It relies on stereotypes of the time, associating leather and tattoos with violence and disrespect for society. It includes what, at the time, was probably a befittingly retributive ending in response to the chaos raised by modern delinquents. I can understand why this song was so popular! The mood created by Piaf's urgent, blasting delivery is unbeatable. And what's not to like about those steamtrain sound effects and those dramatic drum rolls.

Here is my personal English translation, with French lyrics sung by Edith Piaf.

Chorus:

Il portait des culottes, des bottes de moto
Un blouson de cuir noir avec un aigle sur le dos
Sa moto qui partait comme un boulet de canon
Semait la terreur dans toute la région.

He wore motorbike pants and boots,
A black leather blazer with an eagle on the back.
His motorbike went like a cannonball
Spreading terror in the entire region.

Jamais il ne se coiffait, jamais il ne se lavait
Les ongles pleins de cambouis mais sur les biceps il avait
Un tatouage avec un cœur bleu sur la peau bleme
Et juste à l'intérieur, on lisait: "Maman je t'aime"
Il avait une petite amie du nom de Marie-Lou
On la prenait en pitié, une enfant de son âge
Car tout le monde savait bien qu'il aimait entre tout
Sa chienne de moto bien davantage.

He never combed his hair, He never washed himself,
Sludge filled his fingernails but on his biceps he had,
A tattoo featuring a blue heart on pale skin,
And inside it one could read "Mother I Love you".
He had a girlfriend, Marie-Lou was her name,
They all took pity on her, a child of her age...
Because everyone knew well how much he loved
His bitch of a motorbike above all things.

Il portait des culottes, des bottes de moto
Un blouson de cuir noir avec un aigle sur le dos
Sa moto qui partait comme un boulet de canon
Semait la terreur dans toute la région.

He wore motorbike pants and boots,
A black leather blazer with an eagle on the back
His motorbike went like a cannonball
Spreading terror in the entire region

Marie-Lou la pauvre fille l'implora, le supplia
"Dit Ne pars pas ce soir, je vais pleurer si tu t'en vas"
Mais les mots furent perdus, ses larmes pareillement
Dans le bruit de la machine et du tuyau d'échappement
Il bondit comme un diable avec des flammes dans les yeux
Au passage à niveau, ce fut comme un éclair de feu
Contre une locomotive qui filait vers le midi
Et quand on débarrassa les débris,

Marie-Lou, the poor girl, implored him and begged him
"Say, do not go tonight, I will cry if you leave".
But the words were lost, her tears also
In the noise of the machine and of the exhaust pipe.
He lept like a demon with flames in his eyes,
At the crossing it was like thundering fire
Against a steamtrain that sped towards the South.
And when they came to sift out the debris,

On trouva sa culotte, ses bottes de moto
Son blouson de cuir noir avec un aigle sur le dos
Mais plus rien de la moto et plus rien de ce démon
Qui semait la terreur dans toute la région.

They found his motorbike pants and his boots
His black leather blazer with an eagle on the back
But nothing left of this motorbike and nothing left of this demon
Who once spread terror in the entire region.

San Churro

2009-02-09T15:05:00.012+10:00

There is a rumour that a strand of some Spanish epidemic has spread through various parts of Australia. While visiting Melbourne last December, Jason and me witnessed it first hand, on Lygon Street. At first we rubbed our eyes, disbelieving what was before us. We thought such things only manifested in places like Madrid.

But we were wrong.

There it was. San Churro. The most deadly franchise to hit Australia. Particularly lethal to chocaholics and lovers of fried, dough goodness. We soon took to interviewing the handsome brunette at the bar and he assured us, in what I can only describe as feverish enthusiasm, that the franchise was already well established in NSW, VIC and WA and had recently reached the Sunshine Coast in QLD. Soon, most probably this year, it would find another host in the Gold Coast...We gasped in horror. What about Brisbane???

But here we were on Lygon St and the damage was done. We became infected with an urge that was only too familiar. The urge to generously dip a long Spanish doughnut into rich, thick chocolate and watch it disappear bite after bite into our mouths.

After a long, wistful glance at the menu (which does not limit itself to Churros!), we decided to opt for a classic plate of Churros with a choice of two dips. The first was the classic milk chocolate dip. The other dip, was the scourge of all dieters: Argentinian Caramel.

I had in fact read about this very Caramel dip online. The victim had emphasised that resistance to any indulgence would be futile. That this was no ordinary caramel, not the boiled condensed-can-kind of caramel. Something far more insidious. But it was too late to pay heed to any warning: we did not survive the Argentinian Caramel. By far, the thickest, glossiest caramel I had ever seen, it was however, anything but sickly sweet.

After recovering from this sudden attack and while still giddy from the assault, we found ourselves looking around the franchise restaurant. I took a few photos of the interior for evidence. I want others to know what they are facing if they are exposed to San Churro.

I want them to know that San Churro is as close as you will come to paradise...

And that there is no immunity.

Les Nuits Masquees

2008-08-29T13:12:00.004+10:00

What does "Les Nuits Masquees" mean?

I've mentioned it here.

It evokes masked balls. Anonymity. Which is the idea behind this blog.
As Oscar Wilde would say, "Give the man a mask and he will tell you the truth."

So that's what I do. I put on a mask and share not the truth, mind you, but my version of the truth. That's all "Les Nuits Masquees" means...

Ah yes, if you want, there is this allusion to the clandestine pleasures of Madame Bovary. But that's purely a coincidence.

And as for that mask, don't think for a minute that I would be afraid to speak without it. Of course not. I stand by my ideas and what I believe. But it's much easier this way. There are no interruptions and no distractions.

Who Reads this Blog?

I think it's time I share some of my Google Analytics findings. Remember this rant? Well I still use Google Analytics to make sense of my visitors. So let's see if we have some sort of pattern going on...

To begin, I was amazed that this blog had 175 hits on 28 August. I wondered what happened there and it turns out the Tran Genealogy pages attracted the most hits on that day. Either way, this sharp peak stood out on the Google Analytics' time graph and made me feel slighly famous for a moment.

But only for a moment. This blog's average daily hit is only about 50 pages with 25 visits. Not bad but could be better.

I rate dismally on Technorati. I'm sure it has something to do with the wide ranging topics and the lack of links referring to this website. This blog fits no category and readers never know "what they are going to get". Life is like a box of chocolate right? Now who said that...:)

But seriously, who are you people? And what are you looking for?

Visitor Location

That most of my visitors are from the US is not a surprise given the media platform and the English language. Australia comes in second place which is reassuring as it means at least a couple of friends find interest in my ramblings (and that doesn't include the couple who subscribe via Google Reader).

Following closely are visits from the UK, Canada and France (not all relatives, I assure you). Overall, this blog receives visitors from 55 countries, including the less likely, Senegal (finally!), China, Brazil, Lebanon, Algeria and Oman.

Visitors stay an average of 1 minute which means they do get past the post titles and the images. I'm relieved.

Overall, what do the visitors tell me. Based on the most popular content, there is a thirst for French lyrics translation, an urgent desire for self-help material and keen, sustained interest in my Vietnamese family genealogy.
I will keep that in mind.

Piaf Mood

2008-08-25T20:51:00.005+10:00

I'm exhausted today. Everything aches and I can barely type.
My mood can best be described as nostalgic. I caught myself singing songs in the shower. Familiar songs.

Do you have songs that you naturally turn to when you are feeling drained and when your psyche is wasted? Songs that are not even your favourite songs but whose lyrics you thoroughly enjoy singing? I've heard of music therapy so perhaps there are some tunes that my brain intrinsically seeks to soothe me when things go a little awry up there. In Planet Laura. I wonder if there is a music psychologist that can explain my choice of songs to me.

So now the rundown. The songs are mostly in French. There are songs that I learnt as a child while being raised in a mostly French household with a mother and several aunts who were proud fans of Edith Piaf.

Due to its popularity in the English speaking world, you'll probably think of the ubiquitous "Noooon, rien de rien....Nooooon, je ne regrette rien..." I suppose that would be befitting and would suggest self-introspection and nostalgia. Wouldn't it? If you're thinking about that one then you're wrong. I'm much more complex than that. (Although oblique is more the word.)

I could have picked so many Edith Piaf songs for my twisted brain to latch onto and sing in the shower when I'm down. I love the majority of her work. She's a great artiste. "Tu me fais tourner la tête... Mon manège à moi c'est toi", I love that song. Or "La Foule", that would probably be my favourite along with "La Goualante du Pauvre Jean".

Oh, and "Ah Ça Ira Ça Ira Ça Ira, les aristocrates à la lanterne..."
I like that one too except that we had Vietnamese royalty in the house and my grandmother would get all indignant about me calling for their execution... It didn't make a difference when I explained that this song was merely referring to French aristocrats, she was still pursing her lips at me. So I ended up not singing this one too frequently!!

Anyway, I've dragged this for long enough. I sing "Milord" and "L'homme à la moto". I'm very good at it. It's easy because the lyrics are so visually evocative and they fit my mood. I feel every part of them and as a result, my voice sounds great. It even acquires that distinctive nasal quality. I could do the street urchin thing, believe me I could. And it feels so right singing those lyrics. Why, I don't know. But they speak to me. When I sing "Milord", it's as though I've worked in a cabaret all my life and I know this man only too well. I know his story. I also feel as if I know (or knew) this man from "L'homme à la moto". I'm sure there are lame English translations out there if you care to Google them. If not I'll add a translation later on this blog.

I mentioned they were mostly French songs. One of them isn't. One of them is an annoying English song that I can't seem to get out of my head and that's been the case, ever since I was in high school.
Here it comes: "Rain drops are falling on my head..." What's worse is that I don't even know the full lyrics!! I stand under the shower, with the jet in my absent minded face and I'm singing like an idiot: "But there's one thiiing, I know...bla bla bla...crying's not for me...bla bla bla...because I'm freeeee, nothing's worrying meee!!!!"
I mean seriously, WTF!!!

Endearing, really.

Dark Times

2008-08-21T09:50:00.003+10:00

For the last two nights, I've dreamt about cars.

Dream One

I am a figurehead in some sort of prestigious school and wearing a long blue velvet gown with a plunging neckline. I am dressed for a ceremony. I step on top of a podium and make a speech. Initially, I'm hesitant because I have only just realised my role in this school and so the responsibility weighs down on me. I feel like an impostor as everyone encourages me to speak. But I speak. And it's easier than I thought. I win them through my voice and my choice of words.

Straight after this, my dad picks me up in his car. We drive off away from the elite school. And it's then that I realise how chaotic and rundown the outside world is. There are no real roads. Cars compete for space in the cramped butimen lanes devoid of traffic signs and lights. There are abandoned construction grounds everywhere.

My dad is driving faster and I feel tense as he narrowly misses first one, then two and then several cars speeding in his direction. We manage to weave past all of them. He is keen to drive us to safety. The area all around us is filled with cars moving and crashing in every direction. It's an absolute carnage. We are stuck as everyone, without exception, has suffered a collision of some sort. There is a bus / car collision ahead of us, barring our way and my dad is still speeding...

In an unexplained twist which I am now familiar with, my unconscious instinct kicks without warning. I feel myself drift out of my body and step outside of the car. It means that something is about to happen. I don't know how I know but I know. I am safe now, apparently. I am no longer in the car in spirit, only in body. I follow my dad's car. I can see it avoid the impending collision with the side of the bus and veer sharply towards the left. My dad's car disappears from view into a side road. I can no longer see. So I float higher up, towering the mass car wreak. I move like a ghost towards the road that he took.

It's not a road. It's a deep precipice. It's the steepest slope I've ever seen and it leads to nowhere. I can not even see the bottom because it's so deep. There is only water and clouds of mist with glimpses of steel that betray the content of the crevasse. The car must have fallen instantly. He did not know that it wasn't a road. And now they are dead.

The End.

I've looked up this dream but I'm not convinced by its supposed meaning. The dictionnary tells me that my life is out of control. Bizarre. It says that the person driving is the one I wish was in control of my life. Hardly accurate.
Death is a good symbol though.

The other reason why I don't believe that the person driving has any significance in terms of control issues is the next dream.

Dream Two

This time it begins with an argument with my mother. I run away. I have no home, no money. I end up turning to an ex. His name is Damien. I go to his house and he shelters me.

The next day he drives me to the stores to buy food. I feel like a dag. I'm wearing a gigantic white tracksuit and I feel terrible. I don't like it when I hate my clothes. I see people in the store who remind me of my unhappiness. I tell Damien that I'd like to go and change.

We return to the car. It happens to be a 4WD that my father used to own. But it's much larger, almost colossal. The dashboard is made of marble. It's heavily chromed on the outside. Damien manoeuvres the car out of the park and I step in. I have a fleeting thought, "This used to be my dad's car. Now he is dead."

So I know that my dad is dead. (Outside my dream, he still lives)

Incidentally, Damien is definitely not the person I would want to 'control' my life. So it's bizarre.

Then an old man in a white singlet appears from nowhere and talks to Damien through the side window. I realise it's Damien's dad. He is crouching forward and looks pained. He speaks imploringly in a sad, broken tone and I feel that he wants to speak to his son. But he dares not ask him to wait. He doesn't want to impose.

I can see that Damien is getting the hint. But he is hesitating. Should he drive away with me and take care of me or stay awhile to speak with his dad?

I understand. So I step out of a car to indicate that I'm not going anywhere. I feel terrible for the old man. I tell Damien to stay with his dad and speak to him.

The END.

Maybe these dreams are telling me that my dad needs me. I really think so. Might have to visit some time...

I also think the school side of the dream means that I'm living a cocooned existence, oblivious to the troubles of others. I'm living in my little pristine world and have forgotten those who care about me. Like my parents for example.

That's the best way I can interpret the dreams.

China Olympics: Let the Games Begin!!!

2008-07-30T20:48:00.004+10:00

Remember this? It's a French political cartoon which appeared during the 1890s.

Post Opium War: (left to right)
Britain, Germany, Russia, France and Japan slicing out China

And they're off!! And it looks like Queen Victoria is in the lead...William II of Germany is coming a close second...hold, no...it looks like Russia's Nicholas may just get into the action...tight game we have here. What's Japan's emperor thinking? I think there may be strategy at play...as you know this game is very important...it's all about strategy now...and, oh! France's Marianne is now close on Victoria's heels...yes, she's catching up...will Victoria let herself be beaten...

Aaah, the good old days!!

But seriously...I can't wait until the London 2012 Olympics. The sudden new wave of libertarians and human rights advocates has left me holding my breath, eager for more.

It's just that I'm terribly ignorant and I need a refresher course on global humanity, or lack of it.

2012 promises to educate me like never before. I am bound to read fascinating media articles about the Opium Wars, the Dispossession of Aboriginal lands, the enslaving of Africans, the exploitation of Indian and African colonies, the murder of Boer women and children in South African concentration camps...

On Novel Writing and Other Things

2008-07-27T17:02:00.003+10:00

I'm up to the stage where my novel is playing games with my mind.

At the moment, it inspires dread. It horrifies me that I may have taken an Orientalist approach to one of the characters. The prospect of historians dissecting my novel also horrifies me. I imagine them as sparrows pecking out little snippets from the story and leaving it a bloody mess.

I've become moody. I alternate between grandiose illusions of literary achievements where I silently beam with pleasure, and moments of confusion in which I spiral out of control into some paranoiacal vortex where nothing is certain except for failure.

I don't even remember what the book is about. There are at least six subplots and most are unresolved. The writing style varies from mildly poetic dribble to presumptious prose. All the characters vie for attention and the main protagonist is being bullied from every direction because he can't think for himself. Some of the characters have not even been named yet because I'm purposely deliberating on something authentic and meaningful and as a result, there are Xs throughout a number of passages. X did this. Then X did that. Am I writing a novel or algebra??

I also wonder whether it's unnecessarily graphic. Why all the details? Am I playing with sensationalism and taboo topics or am I painting truth?

The last week has been interesting. I wake up dreading the thought of writing. I feel as though the characters are becoming impatient with me. They are waiting to pounce on me to impose their personality, their wills. They are agaced at my indecisions. I'm not even in control anymore. Which is just as well because uni has begun. I need a wait out. I haven't stopped ingesting Ming history for 6 months now. I need to get out and breathe the 21st century. It is mentally exhausting to wade through 400+ pages and juggle the plot, the passing years, the historical context, the different cultures and sequences of events while keeping the characterisation in perspective. And there is yet more to research...

I definitely need a break.

So why all the anxiety? It's just that there are so many unresolved passages in my novel. And I usually finish what I start... Leaving the novel in this state means that I feel edgy and dissatisfied. There is some dissonance from not meeting the requirements of my own value system. I want it completed and I am impatient to pen the vision that I've maintained and nurtured in my mind for what is now two years, yet I'm torn because I do need a break and I'm now eager for uni. In fact, I'm already addicted to two of the psychology subjects!

These days I'm always running around getting things organised. The irony is that my health is still in a precarious state. I'm on prescription drugs and vitamins. I've only just stopped coughing after two months. On Friday, my doctor was telling me that "I've had a stressful year and I need to take it easy because my immune system has been affected." But I just have so much to do...I'm now a full time student and I demand 6s or 7s. Nothing else will do. I've just booked a week to the Whitsundays for mid September which will be nice for relaxing. I also have another trip to China to organise. This one is more of an adventure rather than a holiday and it will take time to organise. Meanwhile my mandarin is going nowhere and I can't get my tones right so forget about talking basic Chinese with the locals. Won't happen.

I often think there are not enough hours in the day with everything I want to do and achieve for myself. I'm sure I'm not alone with this realisation. I create the anxiety because of the enormous expectations I place on myself. I've known this for years. But I don't know any other way to be.

To be continued...

Tran Trieu Duc

2008-07-20T17:12:00.001+10:00

Tran Trieu-Duc, the fourth of Tran Sy Ich's thirteen children was born in 1776, in the village of Minh-huong. He was about 11 years old when his father confided in him that "being less intelligent than his other brothers, he would be more useful if he stayed home to take care of the ancestral cult."

However, Trieu-Duc became a scholar as well as an artist. He composed two collections of poems but unfortunately, we have never encountered a copy. He would draw and paint with much delicacy, finesse and sensibility. At 16 years of age, his general culture was already so extensive that he had the capacity to share his knowledge with others. This was how he became the Schoolmaster in his native village.

It is also at this period of time that Lam-Nhat-Thang, the chief of a rich and well reputed family who was also the Director of Education of the sub-district offered him for the first time, the hand of his daughter, Lam-Thi Phuc-Chau. This proposition along with the second one formulated a number of years later, was respectfully and courteously refused.
Trieu-Duc was 28 when Lam-Nhat-Thang's offer was renewed for the third time. Since his parents observed that a new refusal on his behalf would result in Lam-Nhat-Thang's humiliation, Trieu-Duc accepted, for the honor of his family, to take the offer into consideration.

Following the death of one of his uncles who previously occupied high mandarin functions, officers of the court intervened and obtained from the emperor the permission to integrate Trieu-Duc into the mandarin corps such that the reputation of the TRAN family could be perpetuated. Trieu-Duc was then 46 when he was incorporated in the royal administration and had to leave for Hanoi to occupy his first post.

During his absence from Hue which lasted three years, the ancestral cult ceremonies which he had been responsible for initiating, were diligently passed on to another relative.

In 1824, that is, the fifth year of emperor Ming-Mang's reign, Tran Trieu-Duc returned to the capital and was promoted to serve in the Ministry of Rites or "chu-su".

At this time, two highly ranking officers, one which also worked for the Ministry of Rites, forwarded a report vouching for Tran Trieu-Duc's merits. As a result, in October of the same year he was named Tri-Phu (Prefect) of Tan-Dinh. This was located in the same province as Gia-dinh (Saigon).

He therefore regained Saigon, accompanied by his wife who arrived a year later. She had entrusted the care of her son, Duong-Don, to one of the family's great aunts who was widowed and childless.

In 1825, Trieu-Duc died following a short illness.

He was 50 years old.

His wife was now a widow at 41 and apart from Duong-Don, she had five other children to take care of. She returned to Hue and set up a commercial enterprise in the district of Cho-dinh (this district later became known as Gia-hoi).

Several times during his reign, emperor Tu-Duc honored the parent of one of his most loyal and close collaborators. He gave Trieu-Duc numerous posthumous honorific titles:

First title, during the 12th year of his reign (1859):
"TRUNG NGHI DAI PHU THAI BOC TU THANH"

Second title, during the 22nd year of his reign (1869):
"GIA NGHI DAI PHU THIEM TRI-PHU THIEM SI"

Third title, during the 26th year of his reign (1874):
"TU THIEM DAI PHU LE BO THUONG THU"

Fourth title, during the 32nd year of his reign (1879):
"THANH NGHI PHAM DOAN NAM"

His cult name is TRANG Y TRAN TRIEU-DUC.

His wife, Lam-thi Phuc-chau (1785 - 1872) gave him six children:

Four sons
Two daughters

She was also honored by emperor Tu-Duc in the 22nd year of his reign with the title:
"CHANH-TAM-PHAM THUC-NHAN"

Back to Tran Genealogy Index